


Mutilated Mannequin

by TalesOfOnyxBats



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, High School, Homecoming, Insecurity, Multi-shipping, Surgery Gone Wrong, cosmetic surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-11-23 05:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 44,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfOnyxBats/pseuds/TalesOfOnyxBats
Summary: Azula is pressured into getting cosmetic surgery. It doesn’t go as planned.





	1. A Comment's Weight

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the Korean drama/comedy; 200 Pounds Beauty. It’s about how a lot of Korean girls are pressured to get plastic surgery. It’s actually really good and I recommend watching it. The full thing is on Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIC2qRoYxZs
> 
> I probably won't continue this one until after I finish Swift As Karma but I had this idea in my mind and wanted to start it before I forget it.

Tylee dabs another layer of concealer onto her face. She makes a few kissy faces at the bathroom mirror. “That Sokka is kinda cute.”

Mai rolls her eyes. “I can think of at least twenty hotter guys in this school.” 

“I said cute, not hot. And Sokka is a cutie.” She caps the makeup. “Right, Azula?”

“Yeah, sure.” She replies, admittedly distracted. 

“You’re not still thinking about Chan, are you?” TyLee asks.

“What?! No!” Azula sputters. “I stopped thinking about that ten minutes after it happened.” She looks at the clock, some thirty minutes have gone by since the boy had made his comment. 

Mai sniffed, “that guy has to be one of the most dull-headed jocks in this school and Sokka tied professor Long Feng’s underwear to the flagpole.”

TyLee bursts out laughing. “Oh! That was funny. Come on, Mai, even you thought so.”

“It was mildly entertaining.” Mai confesses. 

“Yes I suppose it was rather humorous.” Azula replies if for no other reason than to maintain the illusion that nothing else is on her mind. 

The two of them can offer all the reassurance they want, but it doesn’t make Chan any less correct. She hasn’t particularly thought about it until his remark. But now that he has said it, it is so painfully obvious and she can think of many other minor remarks that she had missed. It had been so simple and so subtle and yet it turns in her head over and over again. Perhaps because she has had her suspicious before. 

“You know that none of them are looking at you, right?” It plays back in her mind. 

Now that he has brought it to her attention, she knows that it is true. When boys looked their way they weren’t looking at her. They were ogling TyLee’s chest or staring unblinkingly at Mai’s charmingly narrow face. 

And what does she have? Her sharp mind, she supposes. But her face is anything but. She has her top-of-the-class grades, but neither the boys nor the other girls really look at that. No, they look for other things. Physical attributes.

It isn’t anything to to Azula, the notion that physical attributes have just as much weight as intelligence and skill; perhaps even more. One look is all it takes for a person to write another off. It is why she invests a healthy portion of her morning into styling her hair and makeup and finding flattering attire. 

She can do all of this but she can’t fix the main problem. The problem Ozai has pointed out time and time again before proposing that he had a quick fix.

Suddenly, it seems to make sense, why Mai has had two boyfriends and TyLee has had several. Why the two of them seem to turn so many heads. And why Azula herself has been single since dating became a topic of discussion. But, up until this startling epiphany, she had never paid it any mind. 

“Oh! Oh no, we’re gonna be late!”

“It’s only lunch, TyLee.” Azula says, thankful for the distraction. “They don’t make much of a fuss over being late to lunch.”

**.oOo.**

Azula had taken a very long and scrutinizing look in the mirror before coming to an ultimate decision. 

She is going to go through with it. 

She has been staring at herself for at least fifteen minutes, gathering a list of everything unsavory about what she is seeing. Twenty minutes, and now she sees what they were talking about. 

She touches her her cheeks, they are too soft. Too round. Her chin and nose are much the same. Perhaps the only thing that she has going for her are her narrower eyes. But in the end they don’t make enough of a difference; she still has too much of a baby face, especially when walking alongside Mai. 

She doesn’t know where it has come from; her father and Zuko have prominent cheekbones and sharp chins. Her mother has a prominent jawline and a more pointed nose. She doesn’t understand why she has such unflatteringly delicate features. 

Her fingers move from her nose to her lips, the one feature she would mind having some soft, fullness is thin and unremarkable. 

At one point she almost believed that she looked alright, plain, but not unpleasant. These days she isn’t so sure. Even if she were, alright isn’t good enough. She needs to look perfect; flawless skin, a slender body, and an attractive face will make the difference between she and the other students on the high honor roll. 

Azula wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. Crying isn’t going to fix anything. But her father’s solution will. The man has probably been waiting for her to come to the same realization that everyone else has and ask him to make the appointment. 

She takes a moment to compose herself before wandering down the hall. She drags the walk out for as long as she can and waits a few moments more before lightly knocking her knuckles against his office door. 

Ozai unlatches the door and motions for her to sit; more business-like than fatherly. “This better be important, I have things to do.” 

“I’ve decided that I will get the surgery.” She wants to sound firm and mature but her voice comes out very softly, almost shakily.

Ozai smiles, likely relieved that he will no longer have to worry about having an ugly daughter. She tries to return the smile, knowing that he only wants what is best for her. She feels herself tearing up again. A single tear rolls down her cheek. 

“What are you crying for?” He reaches over the desk to wipe her tear away. “You’re going to be beautiful.”


	2. Consultation

Azula tapps her pencil on the edge of the table. Her eyes move to the clock more than the move to the notes written on the board. She finds it increasingly hard to concentrate as the day wears on. She is already beginning to regret her impulse decision to tell Ozai that she was ready for surgery. 

She is, in fact very much not ready. 

Not ready at all. 

She actually rather dreads it, but her father has already booked the appointment and she knows that once a decision is made, he allows no room to back out of it. She grips her pencil and chews on her lip. 

The very action in itself instills dread. Soon she wouldn’t be able to chew on her lip; for one thing it won’t truly be  _ her  _ lip. For another, she’d risk damaging the plastic. Is that how it works? She isn’t sure. She doesn’t know anything at all about the procedure and the aftercare. 

She rubs her hands over her face and berates herself for getting herself into this without having done her research first. 

“Azula!” 

She snaps into attention. 

“I’ve never known you to not pay attention in class.” Long Feng says. 

“I am paying attention.” She lies.

“Then perhaps you would like to explain to us, the significance of Sozin’s Comet.” 

She almost tells him that there isn’t any at all. That astronomy lessons are rather insignificant in comparison to the matters more pressing in her life. “It only comes by once every one hundred years and scientists think that it is the key to discovering life on other planets.” She rolls her eyes, the man could have at least asked a harder question to catch her in the act of slacking. But she doesn’t intend on reminding him that her great grandfather was the esteemed astronomer who had proposed most of the theories and research projects surrounding it. 

“Right, yes.” Long Feng mumbles, “that’s correct.” 

The bell rings and Azula makes a hasty retreat to the door. As much as she wants to leave Long Feng’s classroom, she wants to prolong the school day. Track tryouts didn’t start until late winter, maybe she will tag along with TyLee to her fashion design club or loiter around with Mai and her cluster of goth and scene kids. 

She writes both options off, her father would kick her ass if he had to come pick her up and kick it twice over if they were late for her first appointment. 

Azula finds her usual lunch table and sets her tray down. It would seem that Yue and Jet would be joining them today. Azula resists the urge to find a nice and isolated spot in the corner of the cafeteria; Yue never particularly bothered her--mostly she bothered Katara, something something about a swim team rivalry that has been going on since they were on the toddlers’ team. But her company always meant gossip and drama. And Jet. He gossips almost more. 

“I hear that Sokka’s upping his campaign game.” Jet starts them off.

“Wonderful.” Azula mumbles.

“You gonna be making any posters? Sokka is making posters.” 

“Let him.” Azula waves her hand dismissively. She isn’t in the mood to think about the class elections at the moment. Perhaps after her appointment. But right now, her mind is too far off to come up with any campaign strategies of her own. 

“Maybe you can have TyLee offer panty pics…” 

Yue thumps him on the back of the head. “Maybe we can pass out pics of you in your thong.”

“You two would be awful class presidents. If the two of you were running, I’d vote for the podium.” 

Chan spits out his drink and laughs. 

“Scoot over?” TyLee asks and Azula slides some to the left and pats the spot next to her. The girl plops down and invites Mai to do the same. 

“You’ll never guess who invited me to homecoming!” TyLee declares. 

“The entire school?” Mai askes

She has said it in jest but Azula is fairly certain that it is almost nearly true. 

“No, it was Sokka.”

Azula wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

TyLee nods. 

“Tell him that you’ll go with him if he resigns from the election campaign.”

“You have a date yet Mai?” Jet asks. “I was thinking of asking Katara?” 

“I’m taking Kei Lo.” She replies. 

“The new boy?” Azula asks. She should have known that Mai and Zuko were in the off stage of their relationship again. He has been particularly moody as of late. 

“Yeah, the new boy.” She shrugs. “He’s into some of the same books I like and he can play the violin. He says that he can play the organ too, but I think that he’s just trying to impress me...or something.” 

“What about you, Azula? Who asked you to homecoming?” 

“No one, yet.” And there it is, her reminder that she is making the right choice. Still, that doesn’t alleviate the nervousness that saps away her appetite and leaves her picking at her food. 

“Maybe Chan can take you.” Yue elbows him. 

“Ew no way!” Chan says quickly, leaving Azula with a mental sense of whiplash. “She’s practically my sister. How long have we known each other now?”

Azula, still recovering sputters, “I don’t know since we started walking.” They have been neighbors for as long as she can remember, she supposes that she understands his aversion to taking her to the dance. They’d seen each other wandering around in only diapers, she has a vivid memory of watching him make a mud pie and shoving it in his mouth, and she is fairly certain that she has witnessed him eating a roly poly or two.

She can imagine that he has some equally blush inducing memories to share about her. They have made an unspoken agreement not to speak of those. 

“Anyways, I was actually hoping that you would go with me, TyLee.”

Azula rolls her eyes because, of course he was. 

TyLee thinks for a moment. “Sure, I’ll give you a shot!” 

“Sokka’s going to be devastated.” Mai commented dryly.

Yue gives a devious smirk. “ _ You _ can take him, Azula.”

“I’d take Chan before I take Sokka.” She hopes that, that is the end of the conversation. She knows that it is going to go just like last year and every middle grade dance; her in her room studying for whatever exam was coming up. She supposes that she can spend the night with Zuzu this time around. Perhaps go to the park and sit on the swings talking about mundane things as they used to. 

“I’m so excited, I already picked out my dress!” TyLee declares. 

Azula groans to herself and looks at the clock. Only forty-five minutes left of this. 

The bell rings and Azula waits for her table to clear before speaking up, “hey TyLee, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure.” TyLee beams, as gleeful and chipper as ever. “I’ll see you in math, Mai.”

Mai nods and takes her tray to the designated turn in point. Azula stands and TyLee follows with her. “Are you doing anything after school?”

TyLee ponders the question. “I have gymnastics tryouts.” She pauses, “are you going to come?”

“I can’t this time.” Azula replies. “I have somewhere to be and I was hoping that you could come along.”

“Oh.” TyLee’s mood seems to drop. 

“I would go with you but father expects me to attend matters with him.” Azula replies. “Good luck with tryouts. I’ll talk to you…” she looks at her schedule, just to make sure that she has it right. “I’ll talk to you in Literature tomorrow.” 

TyLee nods. “Good luck with your dad, I know that he’s kind of a jerk sometimes.”

“No kidding.” 

**.oOo. **

Azula’s belly flutters like crazy as she waits for them to call her in. She reminds herself that it is only a consultation appointment. Ozai sits stiffly next to her and offers her just about as little support as she had expected. He flips uncaringly through a political magazine. For herself, Azula simply stares at her palms and taps her foot upon the bleached white tiles. 

The place smells of ammonia and other chemicals. It smells like a hospital and that does nothing to calm her nerves. She wishes that they would just call her in and get it over with. 

She wishes that TyLee or Mai had come along. At least that would make the waiting easier. Instead she pretends to look at her phone until they finally call out, “Dr. Park Guhira will see…” the sound of a page flipping, “Azula.” 

She had been expecting to be seated like a patient in a doctor's office. Instead, she sits upon a rather plush chair across from a doctor who sits behind a computer. He rolls his chair out. “So have you put some thought into your new look?”

Azula shakes her head. “Not really, I just know how I don’t want to look.” She will leave that to him. To a professional. 

The man nods. 

“I have.” Ozai cuts in.

“Alright, we’ll have a look at your father’s plans, pull them up on the screen, and you can tells us if everything looks good.” 

Azula nods in agreement and the man pulls up a picture of her. 

“I have a few procedures in mind for her...”

Doctor Ghuira coughs, “excuse me, and I apologize if this is out of line.” He pauses. “But does your daughter want to go through with this?”

“She approached me with the request.” Ozai answers flatly. 

“Have you talked about the procedures you have in mind because it sounds like…”

“We’ve discussed it plenty. She’s just nervous to see it set in motion.” He fixes her with a stare that most would mark as firm and reassuring. She knows that it is a warning. 

“He has tried to tell me about his plans. I said that I’d decide when I see it on the computer screen.”

“Very well then.” The doctor says.

“The first thing I’d like done with her is a buccal fat removal followed by a cheek augmentation. She’s fifteen, she shouldn’t have so much baby fat still…”

Azula shrinks back into her chair and lets him carry on about how much he hates that she inherited grandmother Rina’s baby face. She watches the doctor click around and adjust the picture to display how she’d look after the procedure. She can’t disagree that it looks better. 

“I also think that she would benefit from a rhinoplasty and a mentoplasty. Everyone in the family has more prominent, sharp features.”

Dr. Guhira stands before her, “may I?” 

It is such a vague question but her discomfort prevents her from asking for clarification so she simply gives what she hopes is a stoic, “go ahead.”

By the chin, he gently tilts her head up with the back of his hand and then observes it from a few angles. “Yes, yes, I can see the benefit in those procedures…” He trails off in a mumble as he seats himself again. He clicks around and turns the screen. “How does this look?”

Azula thinks that it looks uncanny. She doesn’t recognize the image anymore, she supposes that that is the point. The person in the digital rendering has a much more angular face. Narrower cheeks with more accentation. A pointed chin and, though subtler, a pointed nose. 

“It’s perfect. Though I think that her lips could use some fullness.” 

And another series of clicks, the sound of a mouse dragging on a mousepad. “And now?” He asks. 

“Perfect.” 

Dr. Guhira looks to Azula. 

“Yes, that should do just fine.” She agrees but the icy, sickly feeling is growing in intensity. 

“Well then Mr. Kasai, and daughter, it will be a pleasure working with you.” He holds out his hand. “I’ll have all of this logged into the computer, you’ll fill out a few forms, sign them, and select an appointment date.” 

Ozai shakes his hand. Azula follows in suit. The doctor sets a stack of papers before them. 

Her hand shakes as she signs the consent forms.


	3. A Serene Place

Azula feels as though she has signed away her soul. She supposes in some more flowery and figurative manner of speaking, that she has. At the very least, she has signed away a portion of her body.

She directs her thoughts elsewhere and begins working out a speech for the class elections; a list of promises and choice words. Perhaps she'd pass out some sort of food since monetary bribes are prohibited by the school.

Her plans thus far included a push for a better reward system for those on the honor roll and for better funding for the non-athletic extra curriculars. She taps her pen against her lips as she thinks it over. The first formal lunchroom debate is to occur in three days time and she best have some dialogue prepared. Granted, she finds it hard to come up with anything when the student council hasn’t even told her of the questions to be asked and topics to be discussed. 

TyLee drops into the seat next to her. “How’d your...uh...thing go?” 

Azula shrugged. “It was an event and it...occured.” She wishes that she could say that it isn’t still occuring. “How did your tryouts go?” 

“Fantastic!” TyLee claps her hands together. “You know, varsity is only for upperclassmen, like juniors and seniors…”

“I know what an upperclassmen is, TyLee.” 

“Well, coach Rangi says that she might put me on varsity anyways.” She is beaming from ear to ear and Azula tries to muster up some enthusiasm, but she hasn’t been able to shake her own dread since the night prior. 

It keeps re-emerging in her mind, the image of her altered face. If she can’t even get used to the mental image of it, how the hell is she supposed to cope with seeing it in a mirror? 

“Are you still planning on attending the astronomy club?” TyLee asks. “I think Yue said that she was going, she really likes the moon or something.” The girl gives a shrug. 

“Yes, I’m going.” Azula confirms. Between running for student presidency, maintaining her spot on the honor roll list, and astronomy, she is going to have her hands full. Perhaps it is a good thing, it doesn’t leave much room for dwelling on her nerves. If she is lucky, she might be able to keep herself busy enough to avoid a second appointment. But she knows that she will only be delaying the inevitable. 

She knows that her father will cancel her plans to drag her to the clinic. She just hopes that these appointments won’t conflict with the astronomy club. 

“Are you going to join Yue and I? Mai can’t because she has to watch Tom-Tom on Tuesdays.” 

TyLee bites her cheek. “I can probably come later in the year, but Coach Rangi says that most of our competitions are going to be on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sometimes Saturdays for the big ones.” 

Azula nod, she has an overwhelming desire to guilt her into dropping gymnastics. Instead she lightly bites down on her pen. 

“Are you mad?” 

Azula shakes her head. 

She isn’t mad. 

She is scared. 

Scared and somehow she feels alone. 

**.oOo.**

She finds herself in the lunchroom again, bracing herself for another conversation that she couldn't get invested in.

"Hey, can I copy your history homework?" Chan asks. "Kyoshi is going ham with these assignments."

"I suppose that it looks that way to someone who hadn’t turned his assignments in, in over a week." Azula shrugs.

"So that's a no?" Chan asks.

"Chan, I threw out that worksheet a week ago." She pushes another away, and I already turned this packet in."

"Well shit..." he mutters.

"I heard you're thinking of joining the astronomy club, Toph." Azula hears Suki say as the pair breezed by.

"That's right!" Toph replies boldly. "I'm going to be Agni High's first blind stargazer! Principal Pathik is going to be so proud."

"You just want to discuss extra terrestrial conspiracy theories." Katara mumbles.

“God, they are such dorks.” Yue comments. 

Azula shrugs but she isn’t going to disagree. Though she does wonder exactly what warranted the comment this time. She tests the waters, “if you think astronomy is for dorks then why are you going to the club?”

“First of all, it’s cool when we do it. Second of all, I promised Katty that I’d be better than her at everything.” 

“Pretty sure that I made Zuzu the same promise.” Azula flicks her bangs. She fills in one last answer on her worksheet and puts it away.

“Done already?” Jet asks.

“Did you expect anything less?” Mai asks. “How long have you been sitting with us now?”

“Much longer than any of us can tolerate.” Azula mutters, drawing a cheerful laugh from TyLee. 

“And here I was going to share my cookie with you.” He shuffles around in his paper bag and fishes out an absurdly large chocolate chip cookie.

Azula holds her hand out. “I suppose that we can tolerate your presence a bit longer.” 

He chuckles and breaks the cookie in half. 

“What about the rest of us?” Yue asks.

“Yeah, you jackass!” Chan adds. 

Azula exhales, it is refreshing to be talking about things unrelated to relationships and homecoming dances, and other matters that remind of her of what’s to come. She tries to immerse herself in the conversation. Tries to remind herself to just think about the first astronomy club meeting.

**.oOo.**

“I bet that you can’t even work a child friendly telescope.” Yue drums her fingers on the table. 

“I’ve been stargazing longer than you have.” Katara counters. 

Azula finds herself a seat, next to Yue. She gives the room a once over. Other than Yue and Katara, she knows no one. She finds herself somewhat disappointed that Toph had only been jesting about joining the club. She supposes that she doesn’t mind some time to herself. The stars are supposed to be serene anyways. Serene and quiet and a steady constant when she needs some sort of stability. 

“You’re just mad because my daddy bought me the last StareScape model 10.” Yue declares. 

“Just because you have an overpriced telescope, doesn’t mean that you have the brains to use it.”

Azula rolls her eyes, she has an itch to inform Yue that it is a StarScope model 9, but she doesn’t fancy agreeing with the brother of her competition. She would rather observe the squabble than part-take. She isn’t quite in the mood for petty games these days, if she ever had been at all. 

The more she ponders it, the more she begins to consider that, perhaps, she is only with the in crowd because her family has money. That’s the only reason Zuko isn’t harassed. It’s the only reason that the girls flock to him, or so he claims. 

“Tell her, Azula!” Yue pulls her back into the present.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Tell her what.” 

“That she’s not allowed to be here. No nerds in the astronomy club.”

“I’m fairly certain that the astronomy club was founded by a gaggle of nerds.”

“Whose side are you on?” Yue asks. 

“Whichever side has more brain cells at the time.” She shrugs. Sure the girl’s brother is competition, but at least the girl doesn’t make Azula feel like her IQ points are dwindling with every passing second spent in her company. Resentfully, she recalls that her IQ points are really the only advantages she has. “Besides, this is  _ your  _ age old rivalry. Not mine.”

“Thank you!” Katara throws her hands up. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea. You’re brother is a nuisance and I have a feeling that it runs in the family.” She folds her arms over her chest. She has to remind them every now and again, has to remind herself of why she has a higher place on the social ladder. She has to maintain it somehow. And since she can’t flash a gorgeous smile or flaunt an enticing body, she’d just have to settle for asserting her dominance and pick friends carefully. Not that she really particularly trusts anyone in these halls save for Mai and TyLee. 

Katara scowls but folds her arms with a ‘humph’.

If the banter were to continue it would have been cut short anyhow. Mr. Zhao appears in the room with a stack of books and star charts. She hopes to God that he is less humdrum and sour after school hours. “Where is Pathik?” Asks a boy from the other side of the room. “Usually principal Pathik runs the club.” 

“Pathik is busy with final back to school matters.” Zhao replied. “I will be filling in for him for the time being.”

“Hoo-ray.” Yue slouches in her chair, puffs out her cheeks, and blows at a strand of her hair. Azula can’t help but think that, somehow, that expression is still more attractive than whatever she has going on with her own face at any given moment. She grips her pencil more firmly. 

“I have a rather special announcement. Exciting news.” Zhao drawls. 

His monotonous demeanor certainly drove his words home.

“This year, we are offering a chance to visit the NIR&Ex...”

“Isn’t that a designer brand?” Yue asks.

“It’s the National Interstellar Research and Exploration Institute, you dolt.” Katara hisses. 

“As well as a chance to earn a scholarship to Laogai Lake University. Many astronomers have graduated from there like…” Zhao peers down at his paper. “Wan, Sozin, and Agni High’s own Yangchen.”

“Isn’t Sozin, like, your uncle or something? The one who always talks like a poetry book.” 

“He’s my great-grandfather, Yue. You’re thinking of Iroh.”

“I’m trying to hear this!” Katara shushes through gritted teeth. “Maybe your daddies can bribe you in, but I actually  _ need  _ this.”

Yue rolls her eyes. “Listen to that. I hear that she gets wears secondhand socks from her brother. That’s why they call him Sokka, because he keeps giving her his socks.”

“They call him Sokka because that’s. His Name.”

Azula pinches the bridge of her nose, she doesn’t know just how long she can tolerate this for. She came here for solace and at least a fraction of a moment of peace. 

“Sure it is…” Yue replies.

Azula groans softly before getting up and going to sit next to the boy on the other side of the room. 


	4. Rhinoplasty

The room has an unpleasant chill, Azula wraps her arms around herself. Dr. Guhira has stepped out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She supposes that it isn’t too late to back out. Everything in her mind and soul screams at her to do so. But she knows that her father is sitting in the waiting room with around three hours worth of paperwork to occupy his time. She knows just as well that he will be pissed to find her exiting the operating room two hours and fifty minutes early. 

She clutches the edge of the operating table and tries to keep her breathing in check. _ It is only one thing _ , she tells herself, _ one simple procedure to test the waters _ . A courtesy move, really; Guhira had sensed her anxiety. How could he not have? It has been and still is radiating from her potently. For it he had offered to take it one procedure at a time rather than two or three at once. Apparently it is routine to do a rhinoplasty and a mentoplasty at the same time. 

Azula feels terribly sick, a few more minutes and she won’t need the anesthesia to knock her out. She tires, again, to convince herself that things will be fine. It will all be okay. Afterall, father had made Zuzu get it too and that went perfectly well. It is as if he’d never been scarred at all. 

If Zuzu can make it out without issue, then she should be able to manage. 

The door opens and Azula goes tense. 

“Alright.” Dr. Guhira slips into the room with a small gaggle of his coworkers. “All of the prep work is complete, we are ready to begin the operation if you are.” 

Azula takes a deep breath and grips the edge of the surgical table harder still. Regardless, she nods, a reluctant indicator of readiness. Though she isn’t ready at all. 

“Please lay back.” 

She feels as though she may throw up as she lowers herself onto the surgical bed. Her breathing is subtly ragged. She stares up at the dim lights above the operation table, their electrical hum seems to grow louder in her ears. 

“Before we start, I’d like to warn you that you will wake up groggy, so we will keep you for an extra hour after the procedure. Once you become alert again, we will go over the aftercare procedures.”

Azula nods half heartedly. 

He gives a final and firm affirmative nod. “Try to relax and don’t fight against the sleepiness.” He instructs as he slips the mask over her nose and mouth. She hears a soft hiss as the gas begins to flow. 

“Not that high, Dr. Yuma.” Guhira says. “She’s new.” The man remarks. “For now she will just be observing and helping with simple tasks. Nothing to worry about.”

Still, Azula’s anxiety reaches a new peak. The anesthesia doesn’t leave her the time to dwell on it, which she supposes is a mercy.

  
  


**.oOo.**

“Where’s your sister?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko shrugs. “Somewhere where she won’t catch me talking to you and pitch a fit over it, hopefully.” Heaven knows that he doesn’t need a new reason to bicker with her. It is bad enough to have to listen to her brag about her pristine grades and her collection of track medallions. “Please, please, for the sake of my dignity, win the class elections.” He certainly isn’t looking forward to her one-upping him again with a class president title. He can already hear Ozai berating him for being so entirely average. 

He thinks of his collection of B’s and C’s and compares them to his sister’s straight A’s.

“I plan on it.” Sokka gives a thumbs up. “You have a date to homecoming.”

Zuko crinkles his nose. “Mai decided to leave me for that exchange student.” He pauses and with a heavy accent mutters, “hello everyone, I’m Kei Lo and I’m not from this country, which makes me utterly irresistible!” 

Sokka bursts out laughing, “that does sound like him!”

“Who are you taking?” Zuko asks. 

“Suki, of course! I haven’t figured out how to ask her yet and Toph is not making things easy.”

“Sounds like Toph.” Zuko replies. He tries to keep in good spirits, but it is hard knowing that Mai is on a date with Kei Lo at the very moment. He decides that he should really stop eavesdropping on conversations between she and Azula, he always comes out hearing details of the relationship that he doesn’t care to know. “Homecoming is a shitshow anyways.”

**.oOo.**

Azula wakes up as disoriented as promised. She bites her lip and tries to sit up. Her head spins and she gives the effort up. “Father,” she calls weakly instead. 

She hears the rustle of papers and the close of a folder. “Yes?”

“How does it look?” 

“Swollen.” He says bluntly.

She swallows. 

At her wide-eyed expression he rolls his eyes. “It will go down after the splint is removed.”

“The splint?” She wishes that she would have asked or that someone would have explained prior to the surgery. 

“I’ll leave the explanations to your doctor.” 

“When is he going to give me them?” Azula asks, her voice sounds strange against the swelling. Her heart flutters; how is she supposed to go through with her first debate sounding like this? She swallows, her eyes beginning to water. She wipes at her eyes, father is too close for her to get all emotional. 

Some twenty minutes pass of Ozai ruffling through his paperwork (with an occasional comment on how the magazines were disgustingly misinterpreting his grandfather’s astronomical theories) and Azula counting ceiling tiles. She wishes that her father would have let her bring a book or her phone. 

Dr. Guhira enters the room with a cheerful hello and a carton of apple juice. 

Azula takes the drink and has a few sips before setting it aside. 

“Everything looks good.” Dr. Guhira states. “But we will be having a few follow ups between now and your next procedure to make sure that everything stays that way.” 

Azula nods, she decides that it is a little reassuring, the man seems to know what he’s doing. “How long have you been doing this for?”

“Almost thirty years now.” The man replies pridefully. “I’ve done work on various celebrities, you’re in good hands, I promise.” 

Azula nods and he continues.

“We’re going to check on you every half an hour, once we think that you are ready, we’ll discharge you. But there are a couple of things I’d like to talk about before that happens.”

“Like the swelling?” 

Dr. Guhira nods. “That is one of the things, yes. I suppose that we can start there.” He pauses. “Obviously, like any surgery, there is going to be some bruising and swelling. This can last anywhere between three to four weeks. So it should be clear before homecoming.” 

She sighs softly in relief. 

“Do to the nature of the surgery, we will be treating this sort of like a broken bone--because that is essentially what this is--you will have to wear a splint and some bandages. This will both protect your nose and retain the new shape of it.”

She nods her understanding. 

“One of your follow up appointments will include the removal of these.” He pauses. “We also have something called packing material and nasal drip pads in place. These will reduce bleeding. We will see you on monday before you go to school to remove these.” He pushes his rolling chair back and retrieves a box. “These are more nasal drip pads, I will teach you how to properly change them on monday.”

Azula takes another drink. 

“So that there are no surprises, you might also see bruising around your eyes. But that should clear up by monday. Your nose will probably feel numb for a while and you might have some difficulty breathing through it. This is normal. Some pain and discomfort is also normal as feeling returns.

“Can I go back to school? I have class elections.”

“Rest as needed. If you need to take a day off, I highly recommend it, but you should be fine as long as you don’t push yourself.” He grabs a sheet of paper. “So a few more do’s and don'ts. Of course no swimming or strenuous activities. We don’t recommend driving either…”

“I can’t drive yet.”

He chuckles. “I suppose that, that makes things easier. But it might be harder to resist blowing your nose, which is also not recommended during recovery. I do recommend that you go for light walks and sleep with your head elevated. I recommend using an ice pack on your nose for about ten minutes every hour until the swelling goes down. And of course, rest, rest, rest. Like any surgery, you’ll need plenty of it.”

Once more Azula nods in understanding. 

He hands her the sheet. “This is a list of everything we have just covered. I am going to write you a prescription for painkillers, just in case.”

“Thank you.” Azula replies. She decides that Ozai hadn’t really started small at all, she thinks that she should have gotten the lip injections first. That would have been a simpler start. But it is too late for that now. She guesses that it is better to just get it over with. 

She is thankful that she will have the weekend to recover. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ozai asks when they are in the car. 

She begs to differ, she feels quite horrible; out of it and stuffy and still dizzy with nerves. She also feels no more attractive than she had prior, she might even feel less so; she can’t imagine that swelling and bandages are at all alluring. More pressingly, one wrong move or miscare can make a mess of her nose. All of these thoughts wreak havoc in her mind. Even so she replies, “you’re right, father.” 


	5. Aftercare

Azula still feels out of it, for the better part of her Saturday, she remains in bed, curled up and trying not to think too much. She doesn’t know what she is going to say when she gets back to school with a bandaged nose. She could say that she had fallen or run into something but she isn’t known to be clumsy, quite the opposite. Even if she were, the alteration isn’t subtle. I

She resists the urge to touch her nose, she can’t feel it at all, not even a throb. It is as numb as she was promised. 

When she finally pulls herself up, she feels sick. There is some feeling in her nose and it is the sensation of blood. She is glad for the nasal drip pads. She wanders her way to the bathroom, she knows very well that she shouldn’t. 

That she is only going to bring herself distress. 

No less, Azula opens the door, she has to brush her teeth and comb her hair anyhow. She can’t let her hygiene got to shit because of this. Though she doesn’t plan on changing out of her pajamas; she needs at least some degree of comfort. 

Her reflection looks tired and weary. Her eyes are as puffy and purple as promised, she can’t wait for that to go away. Beneath the bandages, she can’t see the exact damage that her nose sustains but it does look quite swollen. 

She swallows and begins brushing her teeth. 

She doesn’t feel beautiful at all. 

She wanders into the kitchen, normally the smell of pancakes would draw her, she no longer has that pleasure. She slides into her chair. 

“What happened?” Zuko asks. 

Azula only shrugs. 

“Your sister is getting surgery.” Ozai cuts in. “The kind that you ought to be getting.”

“I already got rid of the scars.” Zuko argues. 

“Not the ones on your ear.”

“I have hair to cover that.” Zuko grumbles, he untucks his hair from behind his ear and moves it to the front. “See.” He crosses his arms. “I said I was done with that cosmetic surgery shit.”

Ozai sets his fork down with a false gentleness. “If you keep talking to me like that you will be in need of it.” 

Azula silently cringes on his behalf. 

“Your sister knows what needs to be done, she isn’t crying about it.”

Not that he can see, Azula thinks. But she is, she absolutely is. This first operation is already hard to swallow and he has three more lined up for her. She takes a deep breath and tries to remind herself that she wants this, that it is for the best. That if it goes well, she will finally have a date to homecoming. 

**.oOo.**

“You need to relax, Sokka.” Katara sighs as they near her locker. “The first major debate isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Kat, I don’t have any dialogue prepared! Azula probably has a novella of points ready.”

“She can have as many points as she wants, that doesn’t make her any less cold. People want a friendly class president, someone that they can approach.” Katara pauses. “She might be really organized and extremely smart. But she’s really intimidating and hard to talk to.”

Sokka nods, “then why is she…” he lifts his hand, “and I’m down here.” He holds his other hand beneath the first. 

Katara rolls her eyes, “because she scares people. And because her good friends Chan and Yue are up there.” She sighs as she pulls out an armful of textbooks. “You’re going to do fine, Sokka. You may not be the brightest, you’re kind of an annoying idiot, actually.”

“Hey!” He nudges her bicep with his shoulder. 

“But you’re really funny and your easy to talk to. People like that.” She glances at the clock. “Oh, crap! I’ll talk to you at home, Sokka!” She wishes that she had more time to let him respond. Such isn’t the case, she sprints down the hall and into her first class of the day. Heaven knows that Zhao is a stickler about people being late for algebra. She certainly doesn’t want to have to solve one of his challenge equations in front of the class.

“Running late?” Yue steps in front of Katara.

“Yeah, so…” she gestures for Yue to move. 

“I’ll move if you give me that dorky keychain.” 

Katara looks at the adorable rubber duck dangling on her backpack. It is blue in color with a teal beak and a teal hibiscus on its head. “No way!”

“Hmmm...then I guess that you don’t want to get to class that badly.” 

“Yue, you know that this keychain is…”

“Important to you? That mommy gave it to you after your first swim meet? You didn’t even win.”

“She never cared about that.” Katara mutters. 

“Yeah she seemed nice, it’s too bad that she had cancer.” 

Katara balls her fist. She is already going to be late, she might as well add attacking another student to her detention slip. She steps forward. 

“Don’t do it Katty.” Toph calls. “I know garbage cans that are worth fighting more than she is.” Before Katara can make the decision to end her flawless record, Toph has her hand and is pulling her down the hallway. “Besides, you only have thirty seconds, maybe forty, if you’re lucky, to keep your perfect attendance certificate. 

Katara sighs, but decides that Toph is ultimately right. She bursts through the door just as the bell rings. 

Zhao seems to frown and tucks his stack of tardy slips back into his desk draw. “And here I thought that I’d get the honor of giving you your first strike.”

Katara, panting lightly and with a half smirk says, “not this time, Zhao.”

**.oOo.**

“Oh. My. God.” Yue gasps. 

Azula, taking care to avoid hurting herself, buries her face in her hands, partly in embarrassment and partly in aggravation.

“You got a nose job, didn’t you?” 

“And what if I did?” Azula grumbles. She feels the table dip as Chan seats himself. 

“Holy shit, dude.” He mutters. “Who did you fight?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Azula replies, her voice sounds as awful as face must look. The bruising has faded some, but her eyes still appear purple and yellow in some spots.

“I got you something.” TyLee smiles. She sets an icepack in Azula’s palm. 

“Thank you, Ty.” She holds it lightly over her nose. 

“Does it hurt?” Mai asks.” 

“Not yet.” Azula frowns. She wonders if she should just tell them exactly what had happened. She supposes that it is better for her to do so than for Yue to make a scene of it. She doesn’t have to be wholly truthful. “Look, I was helping Zuzu move some stuff around in his room and he accidently hit me in the face with one of those long wall shelves.” 

Yue rolls her eyes. “Did he punch both of your eyes too? I know what plastic surgery looks like.” 

“You can’t even spot the difference between your mashed potatoes and your corn.” Azula gestures to her lunch tray.

“But I can spot a nose job when I see one.” Yue crosses her arms. 

“Why’d you want surgery?” Mai tilts her head. 

“My father wanted me to get it, okay?” She huffs, it isn’t entirely untrue. 

“Didn’t he do the same thing to Zuko?” TyLee asks. 

  
Azula nods as Mai mutters, “I had to hold his hand the whole time. But he was extra nice that week.”

“What’s it going to look like?”

“I don’t know, Chan. Can we just eat?” She takes a sporkful of mashed potatoes. 

**.oOo.**

Katara sends Sokka a text, asking him to pick her up from astronomy at around 4:00. She is pretty sure that he doesn’t mind, he’s been itching for any excuse to drive since he got his licence. Even though his pickup truck is a complete beater, he’s been showing it off at every opportunity. 

She can’t wait until they actually begin stargazing, she already knows how to use a telescope. Being outside would grant her the freedom to distance herself from Yue. Evidently, Yue is plenty occupied for the time being and from the look of it, Azula isn’t getting any pleasure from her company this evening. 

Katara observes Azula collecting her belongings and moving to a different table. She can’t tell if Yue and her cluster of ditzy friends have kicked her out or if the girl had simply had enough of that nerve grating voice. 

Either way around, Azula looks rather isolated. 

For a moment, Katara considers sitting by her, she doesn’t really have friends in the club either. But she has little trust for the girl. Her father routinely makes things difficult for Hakoda and Azula herself is ridiculously stand-offish. Besides, she can’t betray Sokka like that. She can’t see herself getting along with someone like Azula anyhow. The last time she’d tried to bond with a member of that family it ended with Zuko trying to steal Aang from her in the most pathetic breakup rebound that Katara had ever seen. 

No, that family is off limits, she can’t imagine that Azula is a friendly sort of person anyhow.

**.oOo.**

Azula taps her fingers on the desk, she just wants to look at stars and take her mind off of things. She wishes with all of her heart and soul that Yue hadn’t tagged along. She ruffles through her bag and pulls out her ice pack. She holds it to her nose and ignores Yue’s girlish giggles. 

God, she is already giving her a hard time and she still thinks that this whole thing is all Ozai’s idea. She supposes that, at this point, it mostly is. She inhales deeply, she really needs to figure out how to tell her father that she doesn’t want to go through with the next three procedures. 

A few droplets of blood spatter on her hand and she remembers that she needs to change the pads. She exucses herself and wanders into the bathroom. She takes another deep breath, feeling wholly uncomfortable doing this by herself. But she’d rather be alone than ask Yue for help. 

She brings her fingers to her nose, they are shaking. She wonders what would happen if she did this wrong. She doesn’t want to find out. 

She bites her lip and returns to the classroom, lingering in the doorway and scanning the classroom for someone approachable. Yue and her cluster of fools are eliminated right away. The only other familiar face is Katara’s, though she doesn’t know the girl that well at all. 

Yet, Katara is alone and away from snooping ears. 

Azula holds her head high and approaches the girl with a stiff, “come with me.” It rests somewhere between a command and a request. Due to her nature, Azula suspects that it sounds more so like a demand. 

Katara crinkles her brow. “What for.” 

This time she sounds less certain, “I-I need help with something.” 

“Ask Yue?”

Azula begins to crinkle her nose and hisses in pain. “No!” She whispers through gritted teeth. “Yue is...not helpful.” 

“What do you need help with?” 

Azula begins walking away, hoping that curiosity will compel the other girl. She lingers by the mirror, looking down at the pads. There is a thin trail of blood leaking into her mouth. She dabs it away with one of those scratchy school bathroom napkins. 

She hears a shuffle behind her. “What do you need help with?” 

She motions to the nasal drip pads. “I need to swap them out.”

“How am I supposed to help?” 

"I." She pauses. "I don't know, I guess that I just want someone to be here if I do it wrong. I think that you can handle this job."

"Do you want my help or not." Katara replies with a roll of her eyes.

"I wouldn't have dragged you here if I didn't."

"Then, maybe, act like you want me here. Or I'll..."

"No, don't leave." She says a little softer. 

"Let's just do this thing and get back to reviewing the functions of a telescope."

Azula nods and exhales in relief.


	6. The First Debate

Azula smooths the wrinkles out of her uniform and turns to Mai and TyLee, “well, do you think that this one will work well?” 

“I think that your words are going to be more important than your outfit.” Mai shrugs. 

“I need to look presentable. Professional.” Azula counters.

“It’s a class election, not a job interview.” 

“Besides!” TyLee puts in. “Everyone knows that hair and makeup are more important than the outfit.” 

“You just want to test out your new makeup kit.” Mai rolls her eyes. 

Azula sits at the foot of her bed. “Go on, just be careful with…” she motions to her nose. 

“I know, I know.” TyLee grins. “Now hold still.”

She holds herself rigid and erect and lets TyLee cup her chin and begin applying foundation. She closes her eyes. Her voice still doesn’t sound right. With her nose as swollen as it is, her voice resonates with a more unflattering timbre. 

If her words truly are what matter then she is going to have problems on that front too. How is anyone supposed to take her seriously if…

“Okay! Do you want red lipstick or pink?”

“I think you know the answer to that one, TyLee.” Mai mutters. 

“Red, but something that isn’t distractingly bright.”

“Not to bright,” TyLee claps her hands together, “got it.” And quieter she repeats, “not to bright.”

“Just like my ex.” Mai folds her arms. 

“He’s still home, you know?” Azula says causing TyLee to retract her stick of lipstick. 

“Not too bright, just like my ex.” Mai speaks with an added volume. 

**.oOo.**

“Do you think that the tie is overkill?” Sokka asks Katara. He wriggles his brows at his reflection. He does look rather fly if he did say so himself. 

“Kind of.” Katara stifles a laugh. 

“It’s a debate, an election. Don’t people wear ties and tuxes to debates?” 

“Maybe to professional ones.” Katara replies. “Forget the tux and tie and just grab your jacket. People want to see the  _ real  _ you.” She reminds him. “Not uppity dressed up Sokka. They don’t want some kind of fake poser.”

“What about a real poser?” Sokka asks.

Katara squints, “that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Come on, Sokka, we’re gonna be late.” Katara laughed. 

**.oOo.**

Azula sits with one leg crossed over the other and waits for principal Pathik to conclude his introduction.

“With that, I turn the spotlights on our election candidates.” The man says cheerfully. He takes a swig of his god awful onion and banana juice concoction. The auditorium fills with claps in varying degrees of genuity. 

She lets Sokka take the mic first, she supposes that it will do her well to know what she is up against. She can’t imagine that she is facing much of a threat at all, especially not with him fumbling through the introduction.

“Uhhh…” it isn’t a promising start. She watches him rub the back of his head. “So I’m Sokka, but I think that most of you know me by now since I’m a junior. But I got held back a year which is why I’m running for sophomore class president. I like to say that I got held back so that I can graduate with my little sister. Don’t want to leave her here alone with Mr. Zhao.”

Azula can imagine that being held back doesn’t give him points in his favor. 

“That means I have an extra year of experience so I know what this school needs.”

“And what does this school need?” Azula asks. 

“Uh...well...for one thing better snacks in the vending machine.” He declares. “I think that we could use some more gym equipment too…”

“What we need are some new textbooks that don’t look like they are ten years into crumbling.” 

“Our sports jerseys and those spare uniforms they lend us when we forget ours smell really funky.” 

“I suggest a trip to the laundry room.” Azula replies. “Athletics has enough funding. We need to put a focus on academics and other extra curriculars.” 

“Our textbooks are fine, we can still learn from them even if they don’t look all nice and fancy. If I get elected I’ll convince the school to get a larger budget for field trips. I don’t know about all of you guys but I really did enjoy those trips to the zoo!”

A round of applause has Azula suppressing an eye roll, but he does have a point in bringing up field trips, though she doesn’t have a trip to the zoo in mind.

“Of course field trips will be factored in, this school could use a hands on education. Something engaging.” She agrees. It sounds good as far as words go. But the quality of her voice itself...she doesn’t like how it sounds as it echos about the auditorium. The pitch and timbre of it sound almost congested. It does her no favors. In fact she is rather certain that it gives room for people to take her less seriously. 

The exact extent of the damage seeps in when she hears someone in the crowd mimic her skewed pronunciation of certain words. She pushes forward with her argument. “Therefore, I also advocate for budgeting for field trips.”

Another laugh from somewhere in the crowd. She catches someone in the crowd pinch their nose and repeat her speech back to her. She doesn’t give them the satisfaction of a flinch nor a snarl, but she is squirming and shifting within. A mix of mild embarrassment and anger.

Sokka lurches back into another spiel about how he will fight for better gym equipment and perhaps doing away with the school uniform. 

The more they clap the more she recalls how undervalued academics themselves are.

She wishes that the first debate had taken place during last hour classes. As things are, she thinks about how off plan things had gone for the entirety of the day. She wishes that she had waited until after elections to get the surgery. She supposes that it is all connected, of course they preferred Sokka’s silly promises. Athletics and cosmetics seem to have more value in this school than intellect and anything truly worthwhile. 

It is still on her.

It is still on her because she can’t speak right. 

If she could speak as elegantly as she had before the surgery she could have at least made her points sound charming and appealing. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mai asks. 

“Nothing to talk about.” She wants to hear her voice as little as possible until it reverts to its normal sound quality. 

**.oOo.**

Azula is just as silent at the dinner table. 

“How did the elections go?” Ozai asks. Zuko answers him with a snort and a stifled laugh. This earns him a hard glare. 

“Sorry…” he mumbles. 

“It didn’t go well.” Ozai remarks dryly.

She waits for Zuko to take his dishes to the sink before replying, “I sound like…” She pauses. “I don’t know but it isn’t right and no one takes it seriously.” She wants to tell him that it is his fault but she bites her tongue. 

“What are you implying?” 

“I’m implying that, perhaps, the surgeries aren’t a good idea.” 

Ozai massages the bridge of his nose. “Your voice will be fine by the next debate.”

“We’ll see if they take me seriously.”

“Did I raise you to quit?” He asks.

“Who said that I am quitting.” She pauses. “I am saying that I am at a disadvantage now and I will be until I can get these bandages and cloths out of my nose. I am also saying that I don’t think I should get the lip injections until...” until when? After the elections? She doesn’t think that she should get them at all.

Ozai sighs. “Wait until you see the results of this surgery before deciding that you want to look like  _ this... _ ” he motions to her face, and, God, does he make it sound like a horrid fate, “for the rest of your life.”

“And if I’m not happy with the result?”

“Then we can have it done a second time.” 

Her face flushes and she thinks that he is smirking. “You will be satisfied, I assure you.” 

She wants to believe him. She wants to believe that she hasn’t cast away her first debate for nothing. 


	7. Alteration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am using the last names that I used in Wan High lol. Less confusing that way.

Azula doesn’t enjoy being back in the cosmetic surgery facility, even if it is just a follow up and even if it is only to have the bandages and splits removed once and for all. It is a weekend, at the very least, she is thankful for this. 

She isn’t quite thrilled that her father has simply dropped her off with a simple, “I’ll be back within an hour, I have some errands to run.”

The only thing that helps is TyLee’s hand clutching hers. 

“Oh, I’d love to wear a dress like that.” TyLee points at a magazine depicting a model in a glitzy pink and silver dress. It is long and form fitting and throws glimmering reflections on the backdrop. 

“It’s alright.” Azula says. “Pink isn’t my taste.” But she flips through the magazine and looks for a price tag. She waits for TyLee to get up to use the restroom before tearing the page out. Perhaps if the girl is supportive enough she’ll buy it for her one day. She pockets the page and crosses one leg back over the other. She sits rigidly with her hands clasped over her knee. 

TyLee has her rear hovering just over the chair when Azula is called back. She stands back up again and follows along. 

“Good morning, Ms. Kasai.” Dr. Guhira greets. 

“Yes, you too.” She tries to sound warm but her words lack the enthusiasm needed to do so. 

“This should be a very quick appointment.” The doctor notes as he carefully cuts away the bandages and removes the splints. He takes a few minutes to inspect her nose before declaring, “everything looks as pictured, you’re all set.” He types something into his computer before turning back to her. “Would you like to see?”

“I’ll wait until I get home.” She finds that she would much rather breakdown in privacy. 

“I think that it looks nice.” TyLee smiles. She holds her pointer up to boop Azula’s nose. 

She flinches out of the way of TyLee’s finger. At the fall of her friend’s face she explains, “I don’t want it to get ruined so soon.”

“You won’t have to worry about that.” Guhira promises. “I wouldn’t have taken out the splints if that was going to be an issue. Just don’t do anything that would have broken your nose before the surgery and you’ll be fine.” 

Azula nods. 

The man glances at the clipboard. “I’ll see you in a week.” 

Azula nearly lets her mouth fall agape. She hadn’t realized that her father has already scheduled the next one. She has hardly recovered from this one. She swallows and nods again, knowing that she is in for a discussion with Ozai. “Thank you, Dr. Guhira.” She holds out her hand. 

He smiles as he shakes it and leads her back into the waiting room.

“Mom?” TyLee asks. 

A woman with wide eyes and a round chin springs up. She looks so much like her daughter, she can almost pass as a high schooler herself. After leaving TyLee’s embrace she says, “Ozai asked me if I would pick you girls up.” She turns to Azula, “I made grilled chicken and cookies if you would like to join us for dinner.” 

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind coming along.” Azula replies. Any excuse to delay having to talk to her father. Anything to distract her from her nose. 

**.oOo. **

Her father still isn’t home. She can’t find any sign of Zuzu either. She is almost certain that her brother is helping Sokka with his campaign speeches, in which case she doesn’t want his presence around the house anyhow. Not that she had expected him to support her anyhow. 

Azula supposes that it is a good thing that she is alone. She wanders her way to her bedroom and paces around for a bit before moving to her vanity dresser. She rests her palms on the edge of it but can’t bring herself to look up just yet. It is such a minor change, only one aspect of herself and yet she fears seeing it. 

She fears it because it is a change and she finds that she isn’t a fan of change at all. Even so, she lifts her head and her gaze.

The whiplash she expects doesn’t come. The change isn’t so profound that she feels a disconnect from herself. In fact, it is such a slight altercation. But, God, it makes her look so different. Just as Ozai had hoped, there is a subtle point to her nose that makes her look, somehow, older. More mature. She decides that this might work in her favor in terms of the debate. If she can appear older, she can look more professional, more suitable. 

She brings tentative and cautious fingers to her nose. To her surprise, and relief, it feels rather genuine. 

It is going to take at least some getting used to but she has to admit that her new nose is already doing favors to her overall aesthetic. 

She hears the door open and makes her way to the entry room. “Hello, father.” She can see a new watch glimmering on his wrist and something in her stirs. Had he really blown her off to get a custom-made watch? 

He looks her over. “Definitely an improvement.” He notes. 

Azula isn’t sure if she should feel elated at his newfound approval or disheartened at the implication that he hadn’t accepted her before. The unpleasant flutters in her tummy speak for her. “I think it looks better as well.” She admits. 

Ozai’s lip curves up and he puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “That is great to hear. I had a feeling that you would like the final result.” She watches him rifle through a small bag. He pulls out an even smaller box and places it into her hand. “Go on.” 

Azula unwraps and opens it. Encased in velvet is a small pendant on a gold chain. It is a blend of ruby and citrine fused together to form a lily. She holds it up and watches the pendant twirl and catch in the light. 

“Congratulations on your first operation.” He squeezes her shoulder and her former resentment and unease melt away. 

**.oOo.**

Katara bends over with her hands on her knees huffs. 

“Keep moving, Katara!” Kyoshi barks. 

Katara groans and starts back into a sprint. She doesn’t see any sense in having gym class the hour before lunch. No less she makes her way around the track for the sixth time. Ten more laps to go, but she doesn’t think that she has it in her. 

“Aren’t swimmers supposed to be good with endurance?” Jet calls from the other side of the track. 

Katara rolls her eyes and ignores the comment. She can’t help but find it annoyingly true; she doesn’t know why it is so much harder to keep pace on land. In the water she could have had these laps done minutes ago. On land she is getting passed left and right. Azula has at least two laps on her already and is about to overtake her a third time. 

The girl doesn’t even spare a glance as she breezes past.

“What a show off, am I right?” Sokka asks as he too whizzes by, backwards at that. Clumsy too, but somehow he is still up right and keeping up with everyone. 

“Yeah, apparently she’s not the only one.” Katara raises a brow. 

Sokka laughs but only for a moment before colliding with Jet. 

“Watch where you’re going, dipshit.” Jet scowls after picking himself off of the ground. 

Sokka lifts his hands. “It was an accident, I’m sure that you’re still in one piece.” 

“You won’t be when…”

“Save it for your wrestling tournament, Akunin.” Kyoshi grumbles. 

Jet shoots him a final glare before resuming his laps. 

“Geeze, men are so intense.” Sokka notes. 

“You would know.” Katara replies. She tries to sound less grumpy, running laps is more tolerable with Sokka making light of things. The last thing that she wants to do is chase him away. 

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah.”

“Women tend to notice little details…”

“Just ask the question, Sokka.”

“Is it just me or does Azula look different to you?” 

“I don’t usually go out of my way to stare at Azula.”

“Well, next time you get a chance can you look over? I wanna know if it’s just me.” 

Katara nods, not planning on actually deliberately doing so. She finishes her final lap. Right now, her main focus is getting to the drinking fountain and catching her breath. Kyoshi announces her time but Katara isn’t paying any mind to that either. 

She steps towards the drinking fountain only to find a body blocking at. “Back of the line, darkie.” Jet points. 

“Excuse me!?”

“Her voice is so shrill.” Chan holds a finger to his ear. 

Katara balls her fists. She feels a pair of hands on her shoulders and gets ready to send her fists in that direction instead. “They’re not worth it, Katara. Come on.” Suki mumbles. 

“I was here first and did you hear…”

Suki nods. “It’s just a drinking fountain and those were just words. Don’t let them get you all angry, that only makes them laugh harder.” She pauses, “besides, there’s another fountain over there.” 

Katara sighs and heads towards the other fountain as Suki makes her way back into the gym. She decides that she should probably pick her battles anyhow, but she is sick to death of the name calling and dickwaving. 

She leans against the wall and waits for her turn. Azula comes to stand behind her. Curiosity gets the better of her, “what was your time?” 

“Four minutes and forty-five seconds.” Azula inspects her nails. A thick and somewhat awkward silence lets Katara know that the conversation is over. 

She stares at Azula for a moment longer. Sokka is right, there is something different about her. That something explains the bandages. She wonders if the other girl had, had some sort of accident. Katara steps up to the drinking fountain. She closes her eyes, pleased to have some liquid soothing her burning lungs. 

**.oOo.**

Azula hopes that she isn’t pushing herself. Her nose is tingling uncomfortably. She can’t remember how long Dr. Guhira had told her to wait before getting back into athletics. She knows that swimming is off limits, but running? She thinks that she should probably take it a little easier, but she has to keep herself in shape for track. She has goals to meet and she won’t be cutting more seconds from her end time if she gets lazy now. 

She rolls her shoulders back and readies herself to run another mile around the track. 

“Resume.” Kyoshi calls. 

She and her classmates surge forward. She almost feels bad for Yue who looks as though she is going to collapse at any minute. “God, this is so much easier in the water.” she hears Yue complain. 

Azula is three laps in when her nose begins to drip. She groans and slows herself. 

“Ms. Kasai, I know that you can do better than…”

Azula points at her nose.

Kyoshi gives a head nod, “nevermind, you go to the bathroom or the nurse’s office and get that taken care of.” 

Azula wanders to the locker room and finds her nasal drip pads. Guhira had warned her that her nose can still gush if she puts too much strain on herself. She sighs and makes her way to the bathroom. She spends the rest of the hour leaning against the wall, envious of the people still running the track. It only makes Yue’s incessant complaining that much worse. 

“I can’t do it anymore Kyoshi, I just can’t.” The girl pleads. 

“Then walk the rest of the laps.” Kyoshi concedes. 

“Seven minutes and twenty-six seconds, Chan.”

Chan gives the gym teacher a thumbs up and props himself up against the wall. 

“I think that this is your fastest time.” Azula remarks. 

“Had to get it over with so I could talk to you.”

“Flattering.” 

“Hey, look.” He pants. 

“Do you need a minute?”

“No.” He shakes his head and takes another deep breath. “No, I’m good.” 

Azula waits for him to continue. 

“So, about homecoming. TyLee pretty much has her pick of, like, everyone in this school…”

“And.”

“So I was wondering if I could take you instead?” 

For a flicker her eyes go wide. “You want to take me?” 

He nods, “yeah, I was hoping to.” 

She lets a faint smile tug at her lips. She feels giddy and euphoric. This time the fluttering in her belly is of a more pleasant and elated variety. She has never been asked to a dance before. “Let me talk to TyLee.” Not that she can see TyLee objections, the girl has only been pestering her to find a date for ages. Any desire to talk her father out of the second operation fades. It would seem that she has made the right call in deciding to get the surgery after all. 

“Let me know at lunch?” 

“Yes, I’ll let you know at lunch.” 

By lunch, the doubts settle in. She wishes that she would have just said yes before they did. Before it had dawned upon her that TyLee might get offended. She tries to tell herself that such is her only dread and that it will be alleviated after a talk with TyLee.Yet, faintly in the back of her mind she feels guilty. Like she is lying to him. 

She can’t imagine that he’d care much for her if he knew that the surgery had been her idea and not her father’s. She can’t imagine that he will appreciate kissing fake lips. She also can’t imagine that he’d like kissing her real lips either. 

She can’t imagine that he’ll stick around long enough to make it to the homecoming dance. Not with a school full of prettier faces. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

Azula sighs in relief, “I was asked to homecoming.” 

TyLee is beaming, “by who!? Oh, Mai is going to be so excited!”

“I don’t know about that, Ty.” She sighs, “Chan asked me.” 

“You two are going to be so cute together.” She squeals. 

“TyLee. You were going to take him.”

“Oh yeah…” TyLee taps her pointer against her lips. “I forgot that he asked me.”


	8. The Augmentation Of Doubt

Azula wishes that she would have had the lip injections done first. They are much simpler, more manageable. She is fully awake, and thankful that she won’t have to deal with the groggy after effects of full anesthesia. Instead she is given an initial injection that numbs her mouth.

She is still somewhat nervous, she has seen some rather unsavory before and after images. But Dr. Guhira makes small talk that keeps her mind from wandering too far. She is under the impression that he can sense trepidation. He has probably performed enough operations to know how to spot it. 

She tells him about homecoming and about how his work has been good enough to earn her a date. 

He laughs, “you give me too much credit, Azula. You have a personality that leaves an impression, take that into account.” 

Azula musters a half smile. 

She sees the needle and thinks of the picture of the former model whose lips looked cartoonishly swollen, as though she was attacked by a swarm of bees. Her smile fades. She pulls up the image on her phone. “How does this happen?”

“Malpractice.” Dr. Guhira says simply. “The use of cheap or shady injection material. I will be using hyaluronic acid fillers. They are safer than the older methods, that they last longer and come with less side effects.”

Azula shudders at the name, “acid?”

“Hyaluronic acid is a natural substance found in the body. It can be used to treat burns.” Dr. Guhira explains. “It isn’t as intimidating as it sounds.” 

She decides to take his word for it, though she still has no love for needles. 

It does help to have her father in the room for once. She wonders if it is a reward for showing up without protest. He doesn’t speak much but his presence alone is somehow a comfort.

“This is going to be very quick.” Dr. Guhira notes as he marks the places where he will make the injections. “The healing process will also be quicker; a few days at most.” 

She watches him discard a used needle and unbox a new one. At least the man knows what he’s doing. He puts a pair of latex gloves on and steps forward again. “There will be some similarities.” He pauses. “Some swelling and some possible bleeding at the injection sites. Nothing to be alarmed over. Just keep the area clean and watch out for infection. There might be some redness around the area. The worst of it will be a few cold soars.” 

It sounds much less tedious and much less painful, again she wonders why she hadn’t started with the lip augmentation. 

“Of course there are some rarer side effects. Most commonly is an allergic reaction. It is also possible that the swelling can last for a week or so.” 

“Don’t scare her out of this.” Ozai grumbles. 

“I’d like to know what I’m in for, father.” 

“Do your research after the injections.” 

She wants to tell him that most people do their research before having a procedure done. 

“I’ve already looked it up for myself, you have nothing to worry about. The more serious risks are the result of unprofessional mistakes. Dr. Guhira is an esteemed surgone. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Azula nods.

“Please hold still.” Guhira instructs. 

The needle pricks her lips in several spots, its bite is mercifully dulled by the numbing agent. She only flinches once. After the first injection it is only a discomfort. “You’re all set. This process comes with immediate gratification, you’ll notice the difference right away.” 

This throws Azula off, with her nose she had time to prepare and ease herself into the prospect of looking different. She shifts uncomfortably, apparently this one will come like a punch to the gut. 

“Aftercare is going to be easier as well.” Dr. Guhira notes. “Just avoid lipstick and putting pressure on your lips. I recommend using an icepack, that will help with the swelling.”

“I think that I can handle that.” Azula replies. “Will they feel fake.” 

Dr. Guhira shakes is head. “Unless you have an allergic reaction they should feel very natural.” 

Azula gathers her phone and her purse and stands. 

“Thank you, Dr. Guhira, you’re work is always impressive.” Ozai extends his hand.

The doctor returns the gesture with a firm shake. “Of course, Mr. Kasai, it is always a pleasure.” And to Azula he says, “enjoy your homecoming dance.” 

**.oOo.**

A weekend is plenty enough time for some of the swelling to fade. It certainly has been a smoother process than her nose job. She isn’t sure that she likes the look of fuller lips, though. By all means, it doesn’t look gross or ungodly, but she feels as though her natural lips had suited her more. 

Even still, father assures her that this is an improvement and that she just isn’t used to the look yet. She isn’t so sure of that and constantly finds herself thankful that lip injections have the permanence of bright blue hair dye. If she wants to keep her fuller lips then she will have to keep going in. She has no doubt that Ozai would be more than happy to fund that. She doesn’t think that she will be taking advantage of it. 

Azula grabs her over the shoulder bag, a designer accessory, red in color and embroidered with a golden dragon. She tugs at a zipper that is just as needlessly opulent; also made of gold and accented with a garnet. She double checks to make sure that she has all of her textbooks and completed homework assignments in order. 

She takes one last look in the mirror at a face that is hers but at the same time very foreign. She adjusts her lily pendant and runs a comb through her hair for a final time and the doorbell rings. 

“He had you get another one?” Mai asks. 

The Kasia chauffeur holds the door open. Mai climbs into the car first followed by TyLee and then Azula. 

“He has two more planned.” 

“Do you even want to get all of these operations?” TyLee asks.

Azula thinks for a moment. “Yes. I think that they will serve me well in the long run.” She doesn’t mention that they make her feel like a fraud. Like a deceiver. She wishes that she were a natural beauty like the dainty Yue. “I just hope that Yue can keep her mouth shut for once.” 

Mai sniffs, “you’re asking for a lot. Honestly, I don’t even know why we talk to her.” 

“She knows the best places to shop!” TyLee exclaims. “And her mom has the best cosmetic line. She’s nice sometimes…”

“I guess.” Mai shrugs. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” TyLee rummages through her backpack. “I was stuck on question six.” 

Azula takes the worksheet, “geez, you couldn’t have asked me last night? We’re in the parking lot already.”

“I could have waited until we were sitting in lit class.” 

Mai rolls her eyes. 

**.oOo.**

She can’t help but wonder if anyone else has noticed the fullness of her lips. If they have no one has commented. She had expected more hushed whispers, but perhaps she hasn’t made changes profound enough to catch the eye of anyone she didn’t know well. 

It is a relief. 

“Does it hurt?” Chan asks, gesturing to her face with his spork. 

“Not terribly.” Azula replies. She can’t gauge how he feels. “It’s a little uncomfortable.”

“I can imagine, your lips are puffy as hell. Isn’t it hard to eat?”

She finds herself shifting awkwardly at the attention placed on the swelling. “As long as I don’t open my mouth too wide, I’m fine. It’s not as bad as it was yesterday.” Azula shrugs.

“You talk to TyLee yet?”

“Briefly.” 

“And?”

“I said that Azula should go for it!” TyLee declares. “I’m really, really excited to see her dress. She always has such beautiful dresses.”

“Then who are you going to take to the dance?” Azula asks. 

“Well I was hoping that Chan could set me up with Ruon Jian.” 

“Trust me, he won’t have any objections.” Chan snickers. “I’ll let him know that he has a homecoming date.” 

Azula listens as the conversation carries itself out, paying special attention to how she eats. She is relieved to know that Yue didn’t make an appearance. She doesn’t feel like listening to the girl make remarks about the ‘gross swelling’. 

The bell rings and she gathers her belongings, throwing out what remains of her lunch. “I’ll see the two of you in lit tomorrow.” She waves Mai and TyLee off. “And the two of you in gym.” She says to Chan and Jet. 

“See you around.” Jet gives a two finger salute. 

Azula turns to leave.

“I know that you’re not used to having a boyfriend so I’ll give you some tip.” A smug and mischievous smirk plays across Chan’s face.

“Oh, will you?” Azula quirks a brow. 

He nods, “you see, may couples will kiss each other goodbye.” He leans in and the playful mood is chased out by nerves. 

Azula pulls away, “I-I don’t think that that’s a good idea right now. I just got…” she motions to her lips. 

“Right…” she hears the disappointment in his voice and chides herself for backing out. Why does she have such a hard time letting affection in? He stuffs his hands into his pockets and mutters, “I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Wait.” Azula grabs his arm. She points at her cheek. 

Chan gives a slight laugh, “I guess that’ll work.” His lips grace her cheek for a fleeting moment. “I’ll see you in gym class.” 

She has had her first kiss, sort of, she should be elated. She doesn’t know why she feels nothing but awkwardness and discomfort. She wonders if that is how a first relationship is supposed to feel. Deep down she knows that it isn’t. 

**.oOo.**

Five hours after school ends and she is still thinking about it. As the Kasai family chauffeur drives her back to Agni High for astronomy club, she fixes her stare out the window. She thinks that she should have let him kiss her lightly on the lips. She has only been with him for a day and she has already let the boy down. She sighs and tries to tell herself that she just has to get used to being in a relationship. When she does, it will be better for her in the long run.

There are a lot of things that she just has to get used to. 

A lot of things that will serve her well in the grand scheme of things. 

She touches her fingers to her lips.

The chauffeur holds the door open for her “I will be back to pick you up at 8:00, Ms. Kasai.” 

She offers a single nod and makes her way to the gaggle of students clustered around three telescopes. Azula has brought her own but decides that she won’t make a scene of herself so early in the year. Instead she finds a spot and within the small circle and waits for Pathik to announce what they will be looking for. 

“Partner up.” The principal says. “There are ten of you here today so that should be easy.”

Easy, she thinks sarcastically to herself. She never has an easy time finding a partner when her usual circle isn’t around. 

“I guess that we’re stuck together.” Katara remarks. 

Momentarily she thinks off going solo. “I guess we are.”

“We have three telescopes so two groups will have to wait.” Pathik points out. Perhaps she will whip out her own telescope afterall. But she isn’t fond of the idea of having to share her things with her rival’s sister. She folds her arms over her chest and waits for one of the first partners to observe the moon and pass the telescope over. 

“You got another surgery, did you?” 

“That’s none of your business.”

“Cosmetic surgery isn’t exactly private, everyone can tell.”

Azula flinches.

“I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” 

“Why you would want it? I never understood why people would want to change their face like that.” She pauses. “Why do you, of all people in this school, want plastic surgery?”

She isn’t about to let the class nerd and teacher’s pet know that she, in some metaphorical sense, is itching and writhing in her own skin. That she has surrounded herself with friends who can pass as emerging models. She feels less obligated to do so, with the girl sounding so condescending matter. “Of course you don’t understand, you’re very content being...homely.”

“Homely.” Katara replies flatly. “Thanks. Just because I don’t cake on makeup...you know what, nevermind. I might be ‘plain’, but I like my face the way it is.” 

Azula folds her arms.

She can’t help but feel a prickle of envy. 

  
Envy at her confidence. 

And envy at, despite her words, Katara is also more naturally beautiful. She has the same soft features as Azula; a rounder nose and chin and softer cheeks. But, coupled with fuller lips and big, bright eyes, they work for her in a way that doesn’t work for Azula. 

She realizes that Katara is still taking. “What was that?”

“I said it’s our turn to use the telescope.”

“Before that.” 

“I said that you don’t need it. The surgery.” 

A lump forms itself in her throat and she swallows it. Just when she had been growing to like the surgeries and the favors they are doing her. She resents the dork for bringing her doubts to the surface once more. 

She almost asks why Katara if she likes the way she looks currently. Some deeply rooted yearning for praise. Instead she responds, “what I do with my face is none of your concern.”


	9. The Fickle Hearts

Azula lies in bed and stares at the ceiling with her hands resting just below her chest. She is caught between feelings, unsure of how exactly to feel about her physical self. After years of subtle hints--and the weeks of more blatant ones--that she should get the surgeries, it is almost more jarring to have been told that she might not need them after all. 

She rolls onto her side and pulls her pillow over her head as though that will block out her thoughts. 

Perhaps it is her imagination but her lips and nose seem to throb. She clenches her fingers around her blankets and squeezes. 

When morning rolls around she can’t say that she has truly fallen asleep at all that night. For it, she feels aggravated and on edge. Somehow she gets the sense that her day isn’t going to go well. She pulls herself out of bed and grabs her hair brush. 

She stands before the mirror and drinks in the look of herself, hoping that if she stares for a few minutes a day she will get used to the altered reflection. She absently runs the brush through her long locks until they are silky to her liking. Reflexively, her fingers curl around her lipstick, only to be withdrawn upon recalling her doctor’s advice. 

Normally she would text Mai and TyLee, but she isn’t in the mood for conversation. She will speak to them in lit class. Her dour mood becomes twice as oppressive upon being confined to Agni High’s halls. She stands in front of a locker that refuses to open. 

She gives the halls a once over, finding them clear of teacher and staff, she gives the door a firm punch. She hears something fall and fusses with the combination once more. 02-25-19. This time the locker opens. She retrieves her books for the first half of the day with time to spare. 

She closes the door with more force than usual to reveal Chan’s face. 

“Can we talk?” He asks. She doesn’t like his tone. 

“Can this wait until lunch?” 

Chan sighs and gnaws at his lower lip. “I’d rather do this without Yue and Jet and…”

“Just say it.” Azula grumbles. “Tell me that you changed your mind and that you’re taking TyLee again.” 

She hopes that she is jumping to conclusions but she knows very well that any reply beginning with, “look, it’s just that…” doesn’t have a happy ending. 

**.oOo. **

“You won’t even kiss me.” Chan replies. He quickly adds, “and I mean a real kiss. I don’t want to go to homecoming and not even be able to kiss my date.” 

“The swelling should be a problem by the time homecoming happens.” Azula replies.

He runs his fingers through his hair, she is making this harder than it needs to be. “That’s not what I mean.” He isn’t quite sure himself what he means. He hopes that she won’t ask him to elaborate. 

“You need to make up your mind, Chan.” 

“I have. I’m going to the dance with TyLee.” 

Azula rolls her eyes. “I hope you’re not this fickle about all of your commitments.” 

Chan puffs out his cheeks and releases a breath. This was supposed to be a clean break. “We’ve been together for a day, you can’t be  _ that  _ attached to me already.” He pauses. Pauses long enough for something to dawn upon him. “No, no! Wait. I get it. It’s not about me is it?” 

“Elaborate.” 

“I may be a dumb jock but even I know that you just want to go to homecoming with  _ someone _ . It doesn’t matter if it’s me or someone you just met does it. You just want a prop to flaunt around.” He declares. “You were going to use me as a status boost.”

“And you just want an easy score.” Azula accuses. “Why else would you go for TyLee? She’s not as easy as the rumors make her sound, you know that right.” 

He hates the low hiss that works its way into her voice. 

“Any pretty face works for you, it doesn’t matter whose it is. You just decided that you’d rather have Ty’s.” 

He has made a mistake in asking her to homecoming. He supposes that she is right about one thing, he’s a fickle guy. He should have just stuck with the cheerful TyLee instead of following his manhood. “It’s not about ‘a pretty face.’” He insists. 

“Then what is it about?”

He almost tells her that it is about this, about what she is doing right now. About how hard it is to show her affection much less to get her to return loving gestures. He thinks of putting it gently, of telling her that she makes a much better friend than she does a romantic partner. Instead he says, “ya know what, nevermind. You caught me, I decided that I like TyLee’s face more.” He begins to walk away but he hasn’t let off enough steam so he turns around and shouts, “and she has better tits.” 

Chan has never seen such a sharply cold stare. It follows him down the hall, an overbearing reminder that things didn’t go as planned. That he let his anger and his impulsive tongue get the better of him again. 

Now he is probably going to be sitting alone at lunch. He probably wouldn’t have a date to homecoming either; Azula has a whole hour of lit class to talk TyLee out of taking him. He punches his locker. 

“Mr. Haga!” Long Feng scowls. “Office, now.” 

Chan raises his hands, “sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt the locker.” 

“I’m sure that Principal Pathik will be fascinated by your tale.”

“Fuck me.” He exclaims, very nearly punching the locker again. 

“And you can discuss your language with him as well.”

**.oOo. **

She touches her fingers to her cheek.For a moment it stings like hell, but her anger cools almost as abruptly as it had risen. He may have left her but it doesn’t matter. She isn’t the old Azula anymore. She is pretty now. She can find someone else. She repeats as much to herself as she wanders to literature class.

She has a few hours yet to decide if Chan will still be sitting with them. Perhaps she should let him stay and then make a play for Ruon Jian. If he can hook up with her friend then she can mirror that back to him. 

She slips into her seat.

“Hi, Azula!” TyLee greets. “You didn’t text this morning.”

“Chan wants to take you back.” She says stiffly. TyLee’s face falls so Azula quickly and with a dismissive hand wave adds, “if you want him you can have him.” 

“It won’t bother you?”

Azula shakes her head. “No.” But she isn’t so sure of that. She hopes that she is telling the truth. 


	10. Pseudo Splendor

Azula leans against the wall of the quietest corner of the gym. Hours before, TyLee had gushed over the opulence of her silk dress; deep red and and form-fitting until it reaches her thighs and then it fans out. It is decorated with sequins from top to bottom and hemmed with gold and rubies. The collar is high and also trimmed with gold and accented with rubies. She had been going back and forth between it and a red dress accented with blue. Though she had leaned towards the latter, her father insisted that this one was more elegant. And besides, he has given her a hair comb clip of genuine gold to go with the one she wears. Her hair is gathered into a tight bun.

She should be a splendor to behold.

Should be.

Her dress is pretty but she feels ugly again.

Perhaps more than before.

She doesn’t know why she has let TyLee and Mai drag her here and it is a significantly larger slap to the face to see her friend with Chan. They are blissfully unaware of the blades her eyes fire at them. 

She folds her arms over her chest. Her feet are killing her and she wants nothing more than to kick them off, but it is even less pleasurable to think of what sort of grime she’d be stepping on if she did. So she leaves them on, another aspect of her irritation. 

Azula pretends to be invested in her drink as the night unfolds around her. Her sight lands upon the dancefloor. It is sprinkled with confetti of orange and scarlett. Above it are streamers of the same color and a disco ball that casts bounces glimmering light off of the confetti. Zuko has always lacked elegance and coordination, she wonders just how long Yue will be willing to put up with that for. Her dress and heeled shoes kick up the glitter and confetti as she tries to avoid Zuko’s clumsy. 

Azula scoffs to herself, even  _ he  _ has a date and she doesn’t. She can’t imagine that Chan is going to let it go very easily. Especially if he finds out that she had tried to evict him from their lunch table. She occupies herself by feigning a deep interest in the concessions stand. 

She scans the crowd and picks out Mai and Kei Lo. Mai looks enthusiastic for the first time in ages. She has her hair done up to look like the wings of a bat and wears a velvet black mini-dress. When she lifts her arms a fold of lace fans out, also akin to bat wings. Dancing near by are Suki and Sokka and next to them are Teo and Aang. No wonder the boy didn’t aim for Katara. 

Azula tries to pick her out in the crowd. She finds her and crickles her brows. Is that…? She looks closer. What the hell is she doing with Jet? Jet had mentioned asking her, but if she recalls right he had mocked her for her dark complexion only days before. 

Azula finishes the rest of her drink and throws the cup into the trash with more force than necessary. Everyone she knows, save for the BeiFong girl, has a date. Yet she is all alone, she must look like a joke. For someone who is completely ignored she feels wholly exposed. 

She knows that Chan will have a lot to say considering that she had rubbed in his face that she’d find someone both sexier and smarter than he.

TyLee says something, Chan laughs. Yue walks Zuko through a new dance, he smiles. Jet kisses Katara...Azula turns her head. 

She turns her head because she doesn’t have any of that. 

She won’t have any of that.

Maybe what she has done still isn’t good enough. She trails her fingers down her cheek. She peers back at Yue, immaculate and awe-striking Yue and she is certain that the surgeries she has aren’t enough. She doesn’t look like that. She still looks like herself. Too much like herself. She had her doubts before, but now she is certain that she needs to let go of her old face, it isn’t that great anyhow. 

“Lame dance, huh?” Toph asks. She hadn’t noticed that Toph had propped herself up against the wall. 

“I don’t know why I bothered to come.” Azula confesses. 

“Tell me about it.” Toph grumbles. “Aren’t you popular folk supposed to like dances? Isn’t this your thing?” 

“My  _ thing  _ is...certainly not this. School dances are a waste of time.”

“Yeah, they kind of are. Especially when your dumb friends who promised you that they’d be hanging out with you blow you off for their boyfriends.” She pauses. “If I knew where Katara and Aang were I would be glaring at them to indicate that I’m talking about them. But I don’t know where they are so just pretend like I’m giving them an accusatory glare.” 

“Noted.” Azula replies. She almost tells Toph that she feels very much the same. But she and Toph run with different crowds, she can’t imagine that they have much in common save for a lack of a date. “I think that I’m going to head out.” 

“Lucky, I’m stuck here.” Toph folds her arms and half-pouts, half-scowls. 

Azula puts on her jacket, stuffs her hands into her pockets, and heads for the door. Somehow she feels as though the dancefloor’s spotlights are on her and her dramatic and lonely departure. 

Her hand is on the door handle when she hears her name called from somewhere in the crowd. She makes off like she has heard nothing at all and pushes the double doors open. The doors shut and the slam echos down the mostly vacant halls. 

She heads for the door, she passes a weeping girl, mascara running down her face, heels sandals in her shaking hands. She recognizes the girl from the school volleyball team. She decides that it is better to let the girl think that no one has noticed her tears. 

Azula can still feel the floor vibrate with the bass but the music is muffled by those double doors. She can hear Ruon shouting into his phone about how whoever he is talking to needs to get their ass over here and pick him up now. She looks back at the crying girl and wonders what the story is. 

Momentarily she hears the door open again and two people emerge. One of them sprints for the door, she doesn’t catch who it is because the second person taps her on the shoulder causing her to jerk. 

“Where are you going, Azula?”

“Home, TyLee.” 

“But you’re our ride.”

“I’m sure that Chan will be happy to escort you home. Not that he’s the chivalrous type.” She replies dismissively. 

“Azula, what’s wrong.” She pauses.

“Go back to the dance, TyLee.” 

“I’ll go back if you do.” She gives a lopsided smile. 

“Then I guess that you’re going to miss it.” She turns back towards the door and begins walking. She feels TyLee’s hand on her shoulder and picks up the pace. 

“Azula!” 

Fingers curling around her wrist cause her to turn around and snap, “what?” 

TyLee flinches. 

“What did I do wrong?”

“Unless being an empty-headed bimbo is a crime, nothing I suppose.” She jerks her hand out of TyLee’s grasp. 

TyLee’s eyes begin to well up and Azula’s stomach lolls. She opens her mouth.

“Nice job.” Chan frowns. “She was just trying to make sure that you were okay.” 

“That’s more than you can say…”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” He throws his hands up and slaps them against his thighs. “You’re really going to do  _ this _ ?”

Azula narrows her eyes, “this is your fault.” 

“My fault?” 

“Guys, please.” TyLee whimpers.

“Yes,  _ you’re _ fault.” Azula hisses. “Maybe if you didn’t whore around…”

Chan laughs, the high pitched sort of laugh. The kind Zuko usually gives when their father is berating him and he can do nothing else. “Whore around? I was trying to be nice to you. It’s not my fault that you took it the wrong way.” 

“Maybe if you didn’t...” 

“You guys!” TyLee cuts in again.

“No, if you didn’t have...have something wrong with your brain...”

“Chan, come on.” She is openly crying now and Azula feels a pang in her chest. Still, she can’t let Chan say whatever the hell he pleases. 

“It’s  _ not  _ my fault that you don’t like yourself. How the hell am I...is anyone supposed to like you if you don’t even...”

“No! You’re mistaken! She’s not  _ that  _ pretty.” She shouts, giving his chest a hard jab. Even the crying girl takes a pause to look up. “You don’t know what you could have had.” There is a boiling churning within her it reels in her mind and it is growing hard to contain. 

“Seriously?” Chan crinkles his nose. “You really think that that’s what this is about?” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll see, you’ll see and you’ll know soon.” She throws her hand back to her side.

“No,  _ this  _ is why I want to be with TyLee.” 

TyLee whose lower lips quiver uncontrollably, whose eyes are watery, whose cheeks are tear-stained. And yet she still looks impeccable, she can still brush her tears away and go on with her night.

TyLee who Azula feels just as venomusly about. 

“Please don’t fight.” In that moment, her voice is nothing but an annoying ringing in her ear. A ringing that is driving her absolutely insane. Not that she isn’t already well and there. 

“There’s something wrong with you and it’s more than your face.” 

Something new enters the roaring heat of her inner turmoil, something cold. Something that sets things in stone. Her gaze goes icy enough for Chan to take a physical step back. She has many things on her tongue. So many sharp and evil things. She doesn’t know which to choose so she simply mutters a soft, “you’ll see,” and storms towards the door.

Someone else is sitting on the curb with her head in her lap. The exterior of the school is littered with boys and girls alike waiting for early rides home. A dismal meadow of students who didn’t have the glamorous and exciting night they expected.

She doesn’t cry until she is in her room with the knowledge that her father is still at a business dinner. She lays in the dark with her face against the pillow, wishing that she would have just stayed in her room to begin with. 

Really, what had she expected in going to that dance? 

That much is, in fact, her own fault. 

She gives a gasping cry, but she knows now that she has to change everything. 

Everything. 

She gets up and drinks in her reflection. She doesn’t cry pretty, not like TyLee. But it’s hard to cry pretty when her resting face is unpleasant to begin with. Even still, she continues to stare at her face because she vows that it will be the last time that she sees it.


	11. Unbearable Glitz

It doesn’t feel right to be accompanied to homecoming with Jet of all people, but the boy is a suave smooth talker and, more than anything, she hopes to mend the rough patches. He has offered her a chance to clear the air between them. Maybe if it goes well, she won’t have to deal with chuckles and nasty words whispered behind her back. Maybe, the in crowd will finally give her some peace now that one of their own is talking kindly to her. 

Maybe Yue will give it a rest. Now that, is too much to ask. 

“Lets go dance.” Jet offers, it teeters way too close to a demand for Katara’s comfort.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” Katara sputters. “I’m not as graceful on land as I am in the water.” 

“It’s a dance. At dances, you dance.” Jet cracks a smile. She thinks that it is meant to be a playful one but it has the effect of the wolves in her ma’s bedtime stories. “I’ll show you some easy ones.” His second offer is more soothing. Maybe she is just being paranoid with first dance jitters. 

“I’m going to go have a dance with Jet.” She calls to Sokka for good measure. 

“Be careful in those heels!” Sokka shouts back. 

Katara winces, she had forgotten about those. “Okay, maybe dancing isn’t a great idea…”

“Trust me, I’ll show you some dances that are heel safe. And if you fall, I’ll catch you.” He winks. 

Katara gives a soft laugh. “Okay, since you’re being so charming tonight.” She lets him lead her away from Sokka and Suki. She steals one last glimpse at them. Sokka gives her a thumbs up and Suki mouths, “you got this.” She sure hopes that she does. 

“Just follow in my lead.” He says as the song changes. It is some kind of electronic song and she has no idea how to keep pace with a song that has that many beats per minute. Yet, there Jet is making it look so easy. Even if his moves don’t match the rhythm. He takes her arms and she lets him move them in a slower rendering of the dance he was just doing. 

“You getting a feel for it?”

“I think so.” She nods.

“Wanna give it a go yourself?” 

“I guess I’ll give it a try.”

“Alright. Just remember, you’re not trying out for the dance team. This is for fun so, throw in your own moves.” Jet lets go of her hands. 

“I think I can do that.” Katara grins. She can’t help it, he is a surprisingly pleasant date. Her rendition of his moves are clumsy at best and sloppy at worst.

“You’re a little tight, try loosening your stance up a bit.” 

She takes his advice, but she feels more like jell-o than a dainty dancer. “How was that?” She laughs.

He chuckles along with her. “It was...uh...it was unique, that’s for sure.”

Somehow, Jet’s laughter makes hers come out harder, hard enough for it to be accompanied by a snort. Her cheeks flush, could she possibly embarrass herself anymore. He laughs harder still, “that’s adorable.” 

“You think so? Yue thinks…”

“Yue thinks that Dai Lis are a terrible band. We don’t trust her judgment.” 

Katara sighs with relief. “Good to know. The Dai Lis are legends!” 

“Hell yes they are!” Jet declares. “You want me to get you some fruit punch, I hear that they have the blue kind this year.”

“Blue kind is great.” Katara grins. She watches him make his way over to the concessions stand. She notices Azula lingering by the chocolate fountain and wonders who her partner for the night is. Chan is with TyLee; perhaps it is Chan’s friend, what was his name? Something with an R. Roan maybe? She taps her foot along with the beat of the song. Another grin spreads across her face as it dawns upon her that she is hearing a Dai Lis song.

Maybe if Jet hustles up, they can dance to it together.

But that song transitions into another and then into the song after. 

Her feet are growing uncomfortable again, perhaps the discomfort had never left at all, she had only been distracted from it. In fact, the pain seems to come on stronger having danced in those heels. 

A third song begins.

She looks up at the concessions stand. She can’t find Jet.

And, for what it’s worth, Azula is gone too. 

She wanders over to Sokka, “did you see where Jet went?” 

“Did you check the men’s room?”

Katara tilts her head. 

“Oh, right.” Sokka rubs the back of his head. “Maybe just lurk outside of the bathroom, he’ll come out eventually, if he’s in there.” 

“I’ll give that a try just as soon as you get off of my dress.” 

“Sorry!” Sokka apologizes. He moves his foot and she picks up the somewhat lengthy train of her dress. She is beginning to realize what a silly idea it was to wear such a long and flowing thing in such a large crowd. She is lucky that the dress hasn’t ripped yet. This is the most expensive dress she owns. Will probably ever own. 

She waits by the bathroom for a few minutes, the sound of EDM is beginning to give her a headache. This is not her scene at all, it’s too loud and there are too many people. Suddenly the lights are too bright and, combined with the relentless shimmer of confetti and glitter, her eyes don’t stand a chance. 

Katara swallows and enters the room again. Perhaps Jet is looking for her as well and they are both wandering aimlessly. 

She doesn’t know why it catches her so off guard to find the boy sitting at one of the tables with Yue, Zuko, Mai, Kei Lo, and Chan’s friend. She notes that Zuko is sitting as far away from Mai as he can manage, even from this distance, the tension is palpable. 

Katara jumps when Chan’s friend--decidely she calls him, R--slams his fists on the table and declares, “my God, she’s such a bitch! She’s acting like I kissed that other girl. It was just a dance, I don’t even know her name.” 

“Did you tell her that?” Zuko asks. 

“You think I’d be complaining if she listened!?” R shot back. “This dance is such bullshit, mate. I’m fuckkin’ outta here.” 

Katara jolts again when he slams his chair against the table. The remaining few gathered at it fall into silence only to burst into laughter when Yue says, “what a drama queen.”

“Yeah, he’s giving you a run for your money.” Jet remarks. 

Katara takes a deep breath and begins to approach. 

“Your date going any better?” Yue asks. 

Katara holds her breath.

“Yeah.” Jet smiles and Katara releases her breath. Or was it a smirk? She holds her breath again. 

“You going to share?” Though Mai’s voice doesn’t convey any sign of actually caring beyond social graces. 

“Okay, check this shit out.” He pulls out his phone. “I got the nerd to  _ dance _ .”

“Is she as awful as you predicted?” Yue giggles. 

“Oh, she’s much worse. Especially when she tried making up her own dance. Here…” he holds the phone out and quickly gestures to it. “Here just watch.” 

Katara swallows and her face goes hot. How could she have been so foolish? He’d called her ‘a darkie’ only days before. He’d been a complete asshole. People don’t just evolve from jerks to charmers overnight. She swallows a second time and wipes the one tear that managed to escape. “I’m so stupid.” She mumbles aloud. 

So stupid because she knows damn well that a quite night watching rom-coms and eating chex-mix with Aang is her idea of a party. Not that Aang would give her company tonight...she slaps her forehead, what is she saying, of course he’d make time for her if she just asked. She could join he and Haru. But the second to last thing she wants is to feel like a third wheel tonight. 

The last thing she wants is to stay at this dance. 

She flees the strobelights as a roar of laughter wafts up from Jet’s table. 

Her fingers are almost too shaky to text her father, she is almost sure that every other word is spelled wrong. Not that it matters. The night air is too chilly for the first weekend of October and her sleeves are as short as the bottom of her dress is long. 

She shivers and finds herself a spot on the curb. R stands a few feet away, demanding a ride home. His temper does little to pacify her nerves. She buries her face in her hands and lets herself cry. It doesn’t matter who sees, she has already embarrassed herself.


	12. Shiver

TyLee doesn’t speak with her at all during first hour. Based upon the stern and grouchy look on Mai’s face--Azula recognizes it as the very same one she wears before she calls things off with Zuko--she has a strong feeling that TyLee has already confided in her. 

And in confiding with Mai, has already been advised to ignore Azula, lest she suffer more insults and hurt feelings.

Azula swallows, feeling uncomfortable fluttering pangs in her stomach and heart. She keeps her gaze away from the two of them and decides to put more focus on the election speech that she will be giving at the end of the day. 

Still she can’t help but dread lunch. She doesn’t want to sit at the infamous corner table. The one reserved for the loners, losers, and new kids. The one that is consistently surrounded by crumpled papers and dotted appalling with tiny wads of spitballs and anything else that the student body fancies throwing at the unfortunate souls seated there. 

Heaven knows Zuko has shared horror stories of his time there. 

For the first time that she can recall, she completely zones out of the lesson and leaves the classroom with blank notes. 

She is slipping. 

  
  


Lunch is tense.

She sets her tray down and finds a seat in her usual spot. TyLee and Mai sit on the opposite side of the table. Chan sits as far from her as he can. Jet and Yue sit where Mai and TyLee usually do, but they don’t converse with her.

They are all talking about homecoming--the good parts--so she doesn’t have much to say anyhow.

“You should have seen her face!” Jet declares. 

“You still have it on your phone.” Yue points out. “Show them.” 

Jet whips out his phone and sets it on the table. “I think that she cried.” 

They deliberately keep the phone out of Azula’s view but she can put two and two together. He had set Katara up, and then recorded the moment when he’d revealed that he did. 

“Show them her awful dancing.” Yue requested. 

“Get ready for some secondhand embarrassment.” Jet announces. 

Azula spares a look at Katara’s usual lunch table. Today it is occupied by only Suki and Toph. Evidently, Azula thinks that she should have just stayed home too, not that her father would have permitted it. 

She tries to bring herself into the conversation by peering at the phone and muttering, “who dances like that?”

The video comes to an end and Chan says, “at least she tried?”

Yue bursts out laughing. “Some people really shouldn’t try.” 

Azula lets another ten or so minutes go by before trying a new approach. She offers one of her cookies to TyLee, sugar cookies are her favorite. Still, she doesn’t even look at them. For the rest of the hour Azula stares at Kyoshi’s assigned reading, not really seeing it at all. 

She refuses to be the first to leave the table when the bell rings. She waits until Mai and TyLee leave before going herself. The rest of the day drags on in a haze. She goes through her class election speech on auto-pilot. She doesn’t remember if anyone had clapped for her. 

She supposes that this state of emotional numbness will do her favors in the operating room.

**.oOo.**

It is instinct to call TyLee, as she sits in the waiting room. Father has another meeting so she is once again all alone. And this will be one of the biggest surgeries yet. Dr. Guhira instructs her to sit and he tediously marks the places that will be cut into. 

She should know the drill by now, she should be used to it. Yet she is still plagued with anxiety. She knows that, for her suffering, she will soon be better off. 

“Are you alright?” Dr. Guhira asks. 

Azula nods. 

“Are you sure?”

She nods again, “why?” 

“You’re especially quiet today.” He replies. “Can I ask you something, now that your father isn’t around.” 

Her nerves reach a new level of anxiety. 

“Do you really want all of these operations?” 

Perhaps two surgeries ago and a homecoming dance, she would have hesitated. Her answer is rather immediate. “Yes, I do.” She almost reiterates that she needs them, that they are crucial to her finding any sort of acceptance in the halls of Agni High.

Dr. Guhira gives one firm nod, “I just wanted to make sure.” Something in his eyes tells her that he doesn’t quite believe her. Still, the consent forms have all been signed, it isn’t his place to refuse her. Especially not when her father has all of the operations prepaid. 

“Do you want me to tell you how this operation will work?” 

“Not this time.” She answers, becoming fully aware of how alone she is. The last thing she needs is to be convinced to back out. 

He slips the mask onto her face, “breathe deeply.”

And she does. She breathes deeply until her world goes dizzy and then until it is covered in a thick curtain of black.

She wakes up to more bandages on her face and to her father sitting across the room. Dr. Guhira smiles down at her. “Some good news and bad news.”

Azula tenses up. She brings shaky hands to her face and hovers them over her chin. Quickly but carefully, Dr. Guhira takes her wrists and guide them back to her sides. “Avoid touching your chin if you can.”

She swallows, “what’s the...the news?”

“The good news is that your third operation was a success. The bad news, or maybe it is good, depending on how much you like school, is that you will have to take at least a week off to rest.” 

Azula lets out a relieved sigh. Prior to homecoming, the news would have been devastating. The prospect of not having to endure another awkward and papably tense lunch takes a weight off of her. “I don’t mind.” 

“Now, don’t get lazy on me just because you have the week off.” Ozai cuts in. “I’ve emailed your principal and teachers. Zuko will be bringing your assignments home for you. And if he doesn’t…” 

“That’s fine, father. It’ll give me something to do.” She pauses. “I don’t care for make up work anyways.” She almost smiles, knowing that she won’t be falling behind, knowing that she can still stay on top of her academic work. 

“Alright, let’s make sure that the recovery period goes smoothly, shall we?” Dr. Guhira says with a matter-of-factly hand clap. “There are a couple of things that you will need to do and not do. Like you did with your rhinoplasty, you will have to avoid hard exercise and strenuous work for the next two weeks. I recommend sleeping with a few pillows under your head. And, for your safety and comfort stick to a soft and liquid based diet.”

“Sounds doable.” Azula replies. 

“Wonderful.” Says Dr. Guhira. He moves his rolling chair to a small counter and picks up a bottle of hydrogen peroxide mouthwash. “Use this at least twice daily to prevent infection.” 

Azula takes the mouthwash. 

“As usual, some swelling and bruising is normal.” He pauses. “But we will be doing something different this time around.” 

Azula nods for him to continue. 

“Because you are one of our younger patients and this is a larger surgery, we will be keeping you overnight just to make sure that everything continues to go as planned. I’d like to be able to catch any complications quickly should they arise.” 

“Did you bring me a book?” Azula asks Ozai. 

“I didn’t realize that you’d be spending the night.” Her father answers. “You can last one night without them. Text your friends or something.” 

The lump in her throat grows. 

He doesn’t know yet. 

He doesn’t know how distracted she has been during class and during elections.

He doesn’t know that homecoming went terribly.

He doesn’t know a lot of things. 

She waits for the doctor to leave the room before asking, “father are you proud of me?”

The man strokes his beard. “You’ve been handling the operations well.”

That isn’t the answer she is looking for. 

It isn’t an answer at all. 

It only makes her feel twice as isolated. When he leaves she pulls out her phone and sends TyLee a text; an inquiry about her gymnastics team and her fashion design club. One hour bleeds into two. And then another half hour and Azula knows that she won’t be getting an answer. So she tries Mai. And then Chan. And then Yue and Jet. 

At her wits end, she texts Zuko a simple hello. 

Her phone buzzes some five minutes later. Her heart leaps and she hopes that it is TyLee. She reads the message, ‘hey.’ She sighs, at least one person is willing to answer her. She asks him what he is doing.

‘Usual.’ 

She rolls her eyes and wonders if he gives one-word responses to all of his contacts. She puts her phone on the table next to her and tries to sleep. 

**.oOo.**

_ Her face feels bloated, grotesquely so. The brunt of the swelling is central to her cheeks and chin. They are so puffy that she can’t move her face. She grips her cheeks with shaky fingers, they come away slick with blood and pus. She cries out.  _

_ A hallway full of students and none of them hear her.  _

_ Soon the halls are empty and it is just she and the pulsing of her face.  _

_ “Get to class, Ms. Kasai.” Zhao grumbles.  _

_ She tries to go about her day as though her face isn’t swollen and oozing. Fluids in various sickly colors drip and spatter on her desk. Long-Feng shouts at her to pay attention and to take notes. But she can’t, not when her paper is a mess of foul liquid. _

_ The bell rings and she wanders back into the halls, feeling light-headed. She finds TyLee and taps her shoulder, “help me?” _

_ The girl looks right through her. _

_ Azula takes a step back and hustles to the bathroom. No one stops. No one asks her if she needs to go to the hospital. _

_ They don’t seem to notice.  _

_ How can they act like nothing is amiss? _

_ How can they when her face feels as though it will burst? _

_ By the time she makes it to the bathroom, her vision blurs considerably. Her cheeks now swollen enough to force her eyes into a squint. Her chin is much worse. The ooze thickly coats her neck and chest.  _

_ She sees, in the mirror, the faces of her peers. They notice her now. They notice and they sneer or laugh. Her chin ruptures... _

**.oOo.**

She wakes up shivering violently. With trembling hands she reaches for the cup of water on the hospital nightstand. She cautiously brings it to her lips. She knows that she isn’t supposed to be touching her face, but she has to make sure…

To her solace, her cheeks are no puffier than usual. 

She lays back down and stares at the ceiling until her heartbeat slows. When at least some sense of calm returns, she checks her phone. On a normal day she’d have dozens of messages asking her why she hadn’t shown up to astronomy and a heap more asking her why she isn’t in class. 

Today, her inbox is empty.

She is so, so alone and she feels it in her core. 

Maybe if they don’t hear from her for a few more days, they will begin to ask if she’s alright. 

She frets that her inbox will remain empty. 

She expects as much.


	13. Opportunity

After sifting through another day’s worth of school assignments, Azula stands up to stretch her arms and legs. She still feels faintly woozy. She hopes that the feeling will subside entirely by monday so that she can go back to school. She is growing tired of lazing around the house; the extra leisure time as her antsy and moody. 

Despite the stack of filled out worksheets and finished lit papers, she feels dreadfully unproductive. 

She opens her housecoat and pulls it around herself with more tightness before tying it up again. Once it is adjusted to her comfort, Azula makes her way onto the roof. It has been too long since she had looked at the stars, no wonder she is an agitated mess. 

She runs her fingers over the cool metal. The telescope is made of a lavish silver and along the edge, by the lenses, are intricate depictions of stars and planets etched in and filled with gold. Down the body of the telescope are more engravings, though unfilled with gold, they are just as striking to behold. They depict various constellations; Azula picks out Orion, Cassiopeia, Delphinius, and Aries. Her gaze lingers upon Ursa Major. 

For a moment, she wonders what her mother would have to say about the surgeries. She has a feeling that her face wouldn’t have been altered at all, not even the simple lip injections, were her mother still around. 

She wonders if her mother still works in the fashion industry. It puts an unexpected pang in her heart to recall that her mother had been the one to inspire TyLee to begin designing. Azula grasps the golden pendant that hangs around her neck and lets herself fall into the chair nearest to the telescope. 

She lets go of the pendant and the small golden tiger falls against her neck. She pulls her chair closer to the telescope. She doesn’t want to think about it; she is dreary enough without recalling the last time she’d seen her mother. The day at the airport when the woman gave her the necklace and wished her luck. 

She had been more affectionate and doting with Zuko. Her farewell much more tearful and with many more hugs. 

Azula supposes that she had always been distant with her mother anyhow. 

She gives her head a slight shake, trying to chase that train of thought away and tries to find Saturn. At last, its rings come into view. She observes the planet until her eyes water and she needs to draw back and wipe them. 

She wipes at them several times before realizing that her eyes aren’t watering because she’d been staring for too long. 

Her eyes are watery with repressed emotions. 

**.oOo.**

Azula doesn’t understand why she is so hesitant to look in the mirror, she knows that her face has only seen improvement. Even still, it is daunting. She shoves her hesitance to the side and inspects her face. It suddenly seems silly to have feared at all when her face comes into view. Residual swelling aside, she looks much better. Her face looks more balanced in a way, and she understands why the rhinoplasty and mentoplasy are recommended together. Somehow she feels more complete. She looks older, flatteringly so. Almost anyhow, she lightly brushes her cheek. She is one operation away from the perfection she craves and has been fighting for. 

She steps away from the mirror and finishes her morning rituals. Breakfast, shower, uniform, it is second nature. She drapes the strap of her shoulder bag across her chest and slides into the family limo. 

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Zuko throws his phone to the floor and runs his hands through his hair looking entirely exasperated. His head snaps towards Azula, “when you see Yue, tell her that she’s a real bitch…”

“I’ll be sure to deliver the message.” Azula replies. 

“She’s unbearable, she’s…” Zuko falls short. He stares at her with his mouth slightly agape. 

“What? Do you want me to make that face too?” 

“N-nothing, nevermind.” 

**.oOo.**

Azula pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and scribbles down a few notes. She can hear the whispers and she has a feeling that they speak of her. They are too hushed for her to gauge the opinions nestled within.

“By now you should have finished our first reading assignment. I would like someone to summarize the last chapter.” Kyoshi says. “Did anyone actually finish the reading?” Azula can see her scoping out the person who is trying harder than anyone else to meet her stern stare. 

Azula raises her hand. 

“Yes, Azula.”

To the best of her ability, Azula details the happenings of the last few chapters of the assigned reading. She has to let the woman know that her week off hasn’t set her back any. The woman’s scowl only deepens, “Azula has missed an entire week of class, why is it that she knows what we’ve talked about better than the rest of you?”

Azula’s stomach lurches at the glares sent in her direction. She looks to the only person who doesn’t seem to be angry with her. Mai stares straight ahead with her arms folded over her chest. TyLee looks as though Kyoshi has attacked her personally and Azula feels a jab of guilt. 

When the bell rings, she hustles to put away her textbook and notebooks and catch up with the two of them. 

“Tylee?”

The girl turns her head. 

“I don’t think so.” Mai hisses, she pushes TyLee along. As she sweeps the girl into the crowd, Azula catches, “she hasn’t even apologized to you, TyLee.” 

Azula props herself up against her locker, lacking the energy to actually open it. She gives a resigned sigh and stares blankly at the herd of students shuffling to their next classes. “Hey.” She jolts at the voice. Forcing herself to open her locker, she mutters, “good morning, Jet.” 

“The surgeries are going well, I see.” 

“I’m not in the mood, Jet.”

“I’m serious!” Jet declares. “I think the new look works well for you.” 

She allows herself a small smile. “Thank you, that is the goal.” 

“Did it hurt?”

“It was more uncomfortable than anything.” Azula shrugs. She motions for him to follow her to her next class. 

“How many operations do you have left?” 

“Just one.” Azula replies. “But I might go in for a couple more if I find anything else that needs...adjusting.” They reach the gym and Jet nods. “It is a little aggravating to have to sit on the sidelines though.” Jet cocks his head. “I’m not supposed to overexert myself for another week or so.” She shrugs. 

“That’s alright, you can just watch me. I’m sure that I can make the sidelines worthwhile.” He winks and flexes his biceps. 

Azula gives a humored sniff. “I’m sure that you can.” He gives her a thumbs up and retreats into the locker room. She makes her way into the gym and hands Kyoshi her doctor’s note. Weeks into the semester and it is still mind-boggling to have Kyoshi for two classes in a row. Heaven knows that she doesn’t hear enough, “if I can make it here on time, so can all of you” whenever TyLee waltzes in late. 

“Sit with the rest of your classmates for the warmup stretches. If those are also too much for you, you can sit those out as well.”

Intended or not, Azula hates how weak it makes her sound. At least she has some drive to make it through the stretches. At least she has something to do aside from sitting off to the side, wasting time.

“I know that I shouldn’t be talking to you. Chan will whine like a bitch if he catches me.” Ruon declares, plopping down next to her. “But I’m a curious man.” 

Azula quirks a brow.

“Jet said that the surgery went well.” He elaborates. 

“I would say so.” Azula agrees. 

“Come on, turn your head.”

Azula rolls her eyes and tilts her head back and to the side so that he can observe her face. Ruon rubs his chin. “Yeah, that is pretty hot.” He muses. “Shit, if Chan wasn’t gonna be such a dick about it, I’d ask you out.” 

“I’ll talk to him.” Azula replies. 

“I don’t know how he could deny a face like that.”

Azula laughs, thankful for the small confidence boost. “True.” She watches Ruon wander off to join Chan. She decides that she will approach him after she finishes her stretches. But as soon as she does, Kyoshi calls for them to begin picking teams. She makes her way to the bleachers, deciding that it will be ultimately better to approach him at lunch. She will have an hour of math to prepare dialogue and work away her nervousness.

**.oOo.**

Unpacking her lunch, she is well aware that the jitters have not subsided. If anything, she only feels that much more queasy. She feels the table shift and looks up. “Yue.” She greets nonchalantly.

“Tell your brother that he’s such a big ass that mine looks small in comparison.” 

Azula sniggers. “I’ll be sure to tell him…” She pauses. “I’m pretty sure that he asked me to tell you…”

“Whatever it is, just give him one of these for me.” She lifts her middle finger. 

“So…” Azula starts, “what do you think?”

“Of what?” 

Azula makes a waving gesture at her face. 

“It’s fake as hell.” Yue replies all too quickly and with a shrug. “But all of that work definitely looks nice.”   
  


Azula rolls her eyes, she suppose that, that is as close as it gets to a compliment with Yue. 

“It suits you.” Chan says as he takes a seat. She begins to thank him, but he speaks over her, “your face is as fake as the rest of you.” 

“Everything else is natural.” 

“I’m not talking about your body. I’m talking about your personality and every friendship that you’ve ever formed.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“It isn’t?” Mai asks. “What pricy apology gift were you planning on buying for TyLee?” Azula draws in a sharp breath and peers at TyLee. The girl averts her gaze and stares glumly at her sandwich. “You were much more pleasant before you got those surgeries…” 

“At least there was a time when I was pleasant, that’s more than you can say.” Azula mutters.

She catches a flicker of a sneer, a fleeting flash of anger in Mai’s eyes. It only lasts a second before her face goes wholly impassive once more. “It doesn’t even look that good.” 

The whole table falls silent. Conversation doesn’t resume for the rest of the hour, not with her and not with each other. She supposes that she will have to find someone else to sit with. Zuko and Ruon are her go to choices but they don’t share the same lunch hour as she. The bell rings and she watches everyone else leave. She lingers behind, even after everyone else has left. Mostly everyone; Katara and Suki finish off their conversation and then depart. 

She swears that Katara has looked at her once or twice. But then again, she might just be over-thinking things. 

“Can I talk to you?” Katara asks. 

But she isn’t in the mood to speak with anyone. Much less Sokka’s sister.

Sokka’s sister. 

Sokka.

The elections. 

Azula tenses up and hurries to her locker. She tosses her textbooks into it haphazardly--relative to her usual tidiness--and rushes to the auditorium. She takes a moment to catch her breath and run her fingers through her hairline. How the hell had she forgotten about the elections? She hasn’t even prepared a speech. She rubs her face with her hands as Sokka steps up to the podium. 

“You’re late.” Long Feng remarks. 

“I’m perfectly on time.”

“You were supposed to speak first.” Long Feng counters. “You are late.” 

Thoroughly exhausted, she concedes, “fine, I’m late. Whatever. I’m here now.” She has a sneaking suspicion that it doesn’t matter anyways. His promises of new sporting equipment and ‘actually exciting’ field trips had been winning over the student body from the start. Truth be told, she never had a clue what to promise her classmates, there has always been a disconnect between she and them. She can spin all of the pretty political jargon that she wants, they don’t respond to logos. And Sokka has her heavily beat as far as pathos goes. Even her ethos had declined rapidly.

Truth be told, deep down, she knew all along that the election was a waste of her time. 

Still, she hadn’t expected a unanimous decision. 

Not even TyLee had voted in her favor. Yue, refusing to vote for the “class dumbass”, opted to leave her ballot blank and boasted as much. Much too late, it dawns upon her that Chan had been right all along. Her social decline had, and still has, nothing to do with her face and everything to do with her mess of a personality. 

The crowd cheers and claps for their new president, but all Azula can hear is her father berating her. 

She doesn’t go home that night. 

She sits in the outdoor bleachers and watches Chan and his team toss a football around. She is a silent and unnoticed spectator. When the sky beings to blacken, she wanders across the lawn to where the astronomy club is setting up. 

“You’re here early.” Pathik remarks.

“Yeah.” Azula shrugs. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Just disappointed about the class elections.” She half lies. 

“You’ve missed a week of school.” He notes. “Oh, oh dear.” He fumbles with the telescope. “Can you help me with this?” 

“Maybe you should put some of that stuff down.” She replies as she helps him position the telescope. 

“Right, yes.” He sets down an armful of star maps and science books.

“I’ve been in the hospital. It isn’t a big deal.” She stares into the telescope and makes some adjustments. “There. It’s all set.” 

Pathik gives it a look for himself. “Perfect! Thanks to you we’ll have some extra time today!”

His enthusiasm is almost comforting. At least she is still good for something. She finds herself a seat in the grass, she wraps her arms around her knees and stares upwards. Katara is the second person to arrive, followed by Yue. Azula rolls her eyes, the girl is really going out of her way to pester her rival this year. 

“Yo, Principal P! When do I get to look at the moon?”

“Whenever you learn to work a telescope.” She hears Katara mutter. 

Her gaze follows Pathik as he paces about. “Now where did I put my pen…”

“Did you check your beard, that’s where it was the last time.” She recognizes his voice from the first club meeting. If she remembers right, he calls himself Sneers. 

“Ah! Yes!” Pathik digs into is absurdly fluffy beard and pulls out his pen. “First things first, I’d like to remind everyone to apply for their chance to for the trip to the NIR&Ex, it could be a once in a lifetime opportunity. And don’t forget about the Lake Laogai University scholarship opportunity. If you show promise in this club and in Agni High’s astronomy classes, you can earn a full ride.” He gives a few giddy claps. “I can think of two contenders already.” His gaze shifts between she and Katara. “Before we get to the telescopes, I’d like to announce that the town of Agni is hosting its annual comet viewing festival. If you have all been paying attention in class, you already know that you all are alive during a very special time. Would someone like to let the rest of the club know why that is?”

He scans the lot of them. “Ah, yes, Katara.” He points his pen at her. “Please explain.” 

“We have the chance to watch Sozin’s Comet as it passes.” 

“Correct!” He claps his hands once more. He turns to Azula, “it must be particularly exciting to know that you will see the comet that your great grandfather is named for.” 

Azula nods, “quite.” 

“The Kasai family has helped the astronomy community profoundly and, with luck and determination, I believe that the family will continue to make contributions. Am I correct.” He gives Azula a wink. 

“I do hope so.” She replies. 

“Yes, yes. Where was I? Oh, right, the festival. The festival will take place in mid December, instead of our regular meeting, we will be attending it. If you’d like to bring a guest, please fill out this form,” he holds up a stack of papers, “before you leave.” 

“Ugg, if I hear one more thing about this comet…” Yue rolls her eyes. “Who cares about the comet, the moon is what really matters.”

“Of course the moon is what really matters.” Katara agrees. “But don’t you realize what the comet means?”

“That Azula gets to brag about her family’s legacy more than usual?”

“Ha. Ha.” Azula folds her arms. 

“Oh! I know! It means that you get to geek out more than usual.” Yue guesses. “I guess making a fool of yourself at homecoming wasn’t enough humiliation for you.” 

Katara’s face flushes. “Y-you know what. I don’t even know why I try with you. You’re so...so…” She storms over to one of the available telescopes as Yue collapses into a round of girlish giggles. The sound is grating to Azula’s ears. 

Azula finds a telescope of her own, but for the first time she can’t seem to focus on the sky. She was going to take Chan to the festival as a first date. Or at the very least, bring Mai and TyLee along for a girl’s day. 

Now.

Now she isn’t sure that she is up for attending at all. 

It isn’t like she hasn’t wasted an opportunity before.

She helps Pathik and the rest of the club pack their equipment away for the week. “Hey.” Azula turns around. 

“Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because, you don’t seem happy.”

“Whether or not I am is none of your business.” 

Katara lifts her hands, “just trying to help.” She begins to walk away.

“Wait.” Azula mumbles, it is just like the first time. Katara turns around again but she doesn’t know what to say. “Nevermind.” 

Katara sighs. “Why are you doing it if it makes you miserable?”

Her brows crease, “doing what?”

“Getting the surgeries?”

“That’s not why I’m unhappy.” But it is, isn’t it? At the very least it is a critical part of it. All at once, the surgeries are the only thing keeping her uplifted. She is wholly conflicted, trapped in a sort of paradox. In some regards she feels more confident. For once, despite her utter loneliness, she feels beautiful. Like she has a chance to make friends. But the very thing that grants her this confidence, takes it away. She feels fake.

Fake and shallow. 

She realizes that Katara is waiting for her to elaborate. She doesn’t know how.

“You don’t have to keep getting them, you know.” She waits for a reaction that doesn’t come. “You look fine. You looked fine before.” 

Azula bites the inside of her cheek. 

“I tried to bleach my skin once.” Katara confesses. “I thought that Jet would leave me alone if I were lighter. I’m glad that I had Sokka and Suki and Toph...and so many people to tell me that I didn’t have to do it.” 

“Jet will find any reason to go after you.”

Katara nods, “I figured that out.” She crosses her arms. “You don’t need to have any more work done. I guess that I just wanted you to know that, even if you don’t like me very much.”

Azula opens her mouth as a car pulls up.

“That’s my ride. I’ll see you in gym class.” 

Azula wanders away from the parking lot as her family’s limo pulls up. She knows that she is only making things worse by avoiding him. All the same, she doesn’t think that she can handle her father tonight. 

She spends her night laying on the park bench, staring up at the stars. 


	14. Strike A Nerve

He has yelled at her before, belittled her, and called her names. But he has never slapped her before. She is lucky that he had the sense to slap her arm instead of her face, she hates to imagine the damage he’d have done to her still healing chin. 

“You can walk to school today.” Ozai declares loud enough for even Zuko to flinch.

“I’ll be late.” 

“Then you better hurry.” 

And that is just the punishment for losing the election. But he isn’t done with her. He expects her to be at school on time but he won’t let her leave. “And just where the hell were you last night!?”

“I decided to go to the park and look at the stars longer, I fell asleep.” She lies. She is already in deep, the least she can do is try to dig herself out. “The school is offering a trip to NIR&Ex, I wanted to show that I should be the one to go.” 

“I can pay them to let you go.” 

“I want to know that I earned it. That I’m good enough. I want my skills to get me in...” She just wants to be good enough for someone. Anyone.

“What skills?” Ozai scowls. “Look at this.” He holds up a copy of her report card. Mostly A’s save for a B in geometry. He shoves the offending paper at her and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just get your ass to school and try to learn something this time. 

“Yes, father.” 

She doesn’t have time to eat breakfast nor pack lunch. She tries to text TyLee and Chan for a ride. They are still pissed. She would try Jet but he takes the bus and Yue lives on the other side of town. 

At least it is sunny. Chilly but sunny.

**.oOo.**

This time around, Azula doesn’t really try to talk to anyone. She isn’t in the mood for conversation. She has to focus on her academics anyhow. Lunch is every bit as awful as she expects. Nothing on the school lunch menu appeals to her; it is all ridiculously greasy and smells as though they have been reheating the same meals for weeks now. Not that it matters, between her nerves and the hollow ache in her chest, she doesn’t have much of an appetite anyways. 

Having no tray to hold, Azula leans herself up against a wall and stares at her feet. She stuffs her hands into her pockets. Every now and again, she catches one of her former tablemates staring. TyLee’s are always of the sympathetic variety, while Chan’s are vicious and cutting. Yue’s are judgmental.

Somehow none of them matter. 

“Hey.” 

  
Azula looks up. 

“Do you want to sit with us?” Katara asks. 

Azula looks from her old table to Katara’s and then back down at her feet. The wall seems to hold her in place for a time but she pushes herself away from it and slumps quietly into the spot Katara has opened for her. 

“Are you okay?” Suki asks. 

But she still isn’t up for conversation. 

“Do you want some of my food or something?” Toph motions to her tray of chicken nuggets. Azula has a feeling that if she were to squeeze one of them, she would create a puddle of grease. She shakes her head, no.

It takes several more attempts at conversation for them to realize that she doesn’t have the energy to partake. The bell rings and Katara leaves her with some final words, “you can sit here tomorrow if you want.” 

She supposes that she should at least have the decency to respond to that. “Okay.” 

Katara offers a faint, sad smile. Azula gathers her things and heads for the door. 

“Hanging with the nerds now?” Jet asks. 

Azula shrugs. 

“You just got your face all fixed up, why waste it on those freaks?” 

Another shrug. 

If father isn’t happy with her then it has all been for nothing anyways. 

**.oOo.**

His fury takes on many forms. The newest of them is a declaration. “I have decided to reschedule your appointment. You will have your final procedure done this weekend.”

Azula snaps into attention, her pencil falls from between her fingers. “Wh-what?”

“This weekend. I’m getting tired of looking at those puffy cheeks.” 

They flush. “But I’m still recovering from…” 

Ozai rolls his eyes. “Don’t start acting like your brother. This weekend, bring something to keep you entertained.” 

“Yes, father.” 

He leaves the room and befalls a weighty silence. Azula looks at her essay assignment. The paper is spotted with two small wet splotches. She pushes the notebook aside and eyes the table. 

She is just about as ready for her final surgery as she had been for the first one. 

She pushes her chair in and makes her way to her bedroom. She lays there staring at the wall as hours slip by. She lays there until a knock sounds on her door. It is too light to be Ozai’s. Ever rude in mannerism, Zuko invites himself in when she doesn’t respond to his rapping. 

“I don’t think that you should get that surgery so soon after the last one.”

“I don’t think that I should get it at all.” She says softly. Far too late, she decides that she misses her old face. Even if it had been softer and less aesthetically pleasing. She misses feeling genuine. More painfully, it strikes her that if she had just waited, maybe later teenhood and adulthood would have naturally sharpened her features. “It was a mistake.” 

Zuko visibly cringes. 

Azula pulls herself upright, her hair falling in long tangles over her shoulders. “I’m tired, Zuzu.” 

“Yeah, father is draining to be around.” Zuko rubs the back of his head.

“Well, it’s your turn to be the golden child.”

Zuko sniffs, “yeah right, he just hates both of us now.” 

“I guess that he’ll calm down after I get the surgery.” 

Zuko cringes again.

“I really don’t think that you should.” 

“That’s not up to you, Zuzu.” She isn’t sure that it is up to her either. 

**.oOo.**

The rest of the week seems to blend and blur to the point where each day seems to blend into the next. A blurb of learning and tactless comments from her former friends. Perhaps an occasional sympathetic stare from TyLee. The monotony of it all is only broken by a heated phone argument that is taken on a friday afternoon. 

He has her on speaker so Azula can hear every word. 

“You made her get what!?” It is a voice that she hasn’t heard in ages. A voice that used to sing she and Zuko nursery rhymes before bed. 

“She’s going to be better off for it.” Ozai insists. 

“She’s still growing!” Ursa exclaims, confirming what Azula had finally come to realize. “Her face hasn’t fully developed yet and you’re already changing it?” 

“Did she tell you about this?” Ozai growls. 

“No!” With the same lateness Azula had, Ursa realizes exactly who she has thrown under the bus. 

“That boy should mind his own business.” 

Azula supposes that it is nice to know that someone is trying to get her out of tomorrow’s surgery. Not that the attempt will amount to anything. Perhaps it is unhealthy, but she spends the rest of the evening staring at the remaining portion of her face that is actually hers. She wakes up the next morning still seated in front of her vanity set. 

There is one message on her phone, a simple good morning. She has almost forgotten that she had given her number to Katara. It is such a small little thing but it makes her smile. Only for a flicker before Ozai demands her to join him for breakfast. A stiff and tense breakfast where he tries to talk to her as though he hadn’t slapped her. As though he isn’t about to make her alter the last aspect of her face that is truly hers. 

“I am proud of you.” 

Her heart swells. She knows that it is a game but it is so nice to hear. 

“For what?” 

“For getting all of the surgeries without protest. We’re just going to have to worry about that math grade…”

She lets him ramble on, simply nodding along. 

**.oOo.**

“Dr. Koh will see you now.”

Azula shoots Ozai a wide-eyed look. “Where is Dr. Guhira?”

“I forgot to tell you, Dr. Guhira refused to do the surgery so soon after your last one. He also said something about having a feeling that you didn’t really want the surgeries. So I found a doctor who is willing.”

“If I’m doing this, I want Dr. Guhira to perform the operation.” 

Ozai rubs his forehead. “We are already here, you are getting the surgery. Unless you’d like a repeat of Wednesday night.” 

Azula’s head spins as she peels herself off of the chair. She feels as though she is performing some sort of funeral march as she shakily makes her way towards the waiting nurse. The operating room seems to take on an icier air as she waits to meet Dr. Koh.

“Good morning, Ms. Kasai.” Dr. Koh holds out a hand. He is a tall man, an almost creepy fellow. Almost. He has a face that makes her skin crawl. His features are exaggerated. Doll-like. He is more plastic than flesh. She shudders as she takes his hand. 

He flips through pages on a clipboard. “Lets get started, shall we?” He slips the anesthetic mask over her face.

“Aren’t you supposed to outline first?”

“I know how to do my job, Ms. Kasai.” 

In the pit of her stomach, Azula doubts that. “Dr. Guhira always outlined where he was going to…”

“I have done this enough times, I don’t need to outline.” 

Azula swallows as the hiss of gas fills her ears. The anesthesia puts a halt to any further protests. She dreads what she will awaken to. 

**.oOo.**

She expects to wake to a sharp shooting pain, instead she finds complete numbness that Koh insists is normal. She believes him but only to an extent. She grips her father’s hand with a force that makes him wince. 

“Your face will remain swollen for about two weeks…” by now she knows the drill. Liquid diet, coming in for bandage changes, and only light exercises. Over excursion won’t be a problem she feels much too nauseous and lethargic to do anything but drag herself to bed and elevate her head. 

Ozai allows her another week off. She is surrounded in shiny things; new necklaces and rings, a new purse, and a new music player. A new dress hangs in her closet over a pair of shoes that match the dress Ozai hadn’t allowed her to wear to homecoming. It is all lovely but it does little to remedy her anxiety. 

Anxiety that does a good job of masking the first sign that something isn’t right. She is sweating profusely and still feels terribly queasy. She doesn’t have the energy to return any of her missed calls and text messages. 

Most of them are from Katara, she decides that she will respond to her first whenever she finds the motivation. The messages range from simple greetings and words of encouragement to light hearted pictures she’d found somewhere on the web before they turned to expressions of concern. 

Apparently, a week with no word from her has also been enough to get Chan’s attention. 

Distantly, in her mind, she knows that she should be elated at the chance to make amends with him but she doesn’t feel like picking up her phone. Every time she shifts, a throbbing sensation bombards her head. 

“How are you feeling?” Ozai asks. He sets a bowl of oatmeal on her nightstand. It is the second sign that something is amiss. Typically he sends one of the maids to serve her. 

“It still hurts.” An understatement. 

She is in unbearable pain.

It aches something sharp as though the scalpel is still embedded under her flesh, or perhaps, a feeling that her own bones are penetrating her skin. Had Koh removed too much fat and tissue. This, of course, is applicable to only the left side of her face. The right side lacks sensation entirely. He had said that the numbness would clear but she is still waiting. 

“I can’t feel…” She motions to her right cheek. 

“It has only been a few days, Azula.” Ozai cuts in. “Wait for the swelling fade before assuming that something is wrong.” 

“Something  _ is _ wrong.” Azula insists. “Call Dr. Guhira, he’ll tell you.” She doesn’t even put in an effort to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Something is wrong.” She repeats softly. 

Ozai takes her hand, “I know that these operations have been stressful, but this is your last one and you will be thankful when the swelling is all gone and you see how beautiful you are.” 

“Because I wasn’t before?” 

Perhaps she is only seeing what she wants to see, but she can swear that something flickers in his eyes; regret? Sympathy? Pity? Doubt? She isn’t sure, but she doesn’t like it. She likes it just as little as she likes her new face. 


	15. The Fool

“Just give it a few more days.” Ozai insists. “Dr. Koh said that the swelling can last up to two weeks.” 

But each passing day leaves her feeling less and less like damage can be repaired. “Dr. Koh doesn’t know what he’s doing!” Azula snaps. 

“Will you be careful.” Ozai growls and then, some softer, “You’re going to damage your cheeks.”

“Already done!” She ignores the searing pain in her left cheek that flares up with her outburst. Perhaps if she begins gushing blood, he will take her to the hospital and they will confirm to him what she already knows. 

The week has nearly closed and her face is just as swollen as before, if not, more so. “Take me to a doctor. A real doctor.” 

“Azula, just give yourself some time to heal…” He pours himself a cup of coffee. “In a few days, you will realize how ridiculous you’re being.”

Azula gives a resigned sigh. 

“Now, get yourself ready for school…”

“School? You want me to go to school?” She can’t recall a time when she had so persistently talked back to and raised her voice at her father. “My face hurts so badly that I can’t focus on the TV and you want me to go to school?” 

Ozai inhales through his nose and takes a swig of his coffee. “You went back to school the past few times…” 

“It’s because I lost the elections isn’t it?” 

“What?”

“This is my punishment for losing the elections.” She hoists her shoulder bag on and storms towards the limo without waiting for an answer. Zuko looks up from the homework assignment that he should have finished last night. 

“He’s making you go to school?” 

Azula nods. She fixes her gaze out the window and lets a few blocks roll by before asking, “you told mother about the surgeries.” 

“I thought that she could help.” 

The sentiment is nice so she doesn’t point out that their mother lives on the opposite end of the country. Besides, her mouth is beginning to ache. Zuko silently accompanies her into the building and walks with her to her locker. “I don’t need a babysitter, Zuzu.” She grumbles. 

“I’m just trying to be a supportive big brother.” He flashes a half smile. 

“That support would have been nice during the elections.” Azula notes. “But if I’m not mistaken, you were supporting other candidates.” She shuts her locker with a force. 

“He’s my friend.” Zuko points out, “he helped me out a lot after father fucked my face up.” 

“Well. I’m glad that you know where to find good friends.” She gives a passing thought to the slew of unanswered texts still sitting in her phone. He responds but she isn’t listening, she has a class to get to. 

“We were beginning to think that you died.” Mai comments as Azula slides into her seat. 

“You wouldn’t care if I did.” Ice tinges the low hiss of her voice. She jots down the notes on the board with more force than necessary. Her scrawl on the paper is thick and dark and only grows more so when a particularly harsh jab of pain rockets up the side of her face. 

More than once she vocally winces, her fingers tighten around her pencil. 

A slip of paper slide onto her desk. Cursive and with heart-dotted i’s, it reads, ‘you should go to the nurse’s office.’ She pushes the note aside. She doesn’t know what TyLee thinks that the nurse can do. 

She doesn’t have a doctor’s note to hand Kyoshi, not that it matters, her face is a doctor’s note in itself. She doesn’t approach the instructor and simply finds herself a spot in the bleachers where she sits with her arms folded. The situation itself is aggravating enough without Chan exchanging looks with Ruon after peering over at her.

She watches her classmates run their laps, catching snippets of conversation, mostly consisting of complaints about how twelve laps is overkill and how Kyoshi needs to cool it. Yue is the most vocal about this. By lap four the conversation takes a new direction, “it’s a shame, she was pretty.” A nod from Jet.

Azula grips the edge of the bleachers. 

She hears soft panting and the slowing of feet. The bleachers creak as someone comes to join her. Sokka holds out a water bottle. She gives it only a blank stare. 

“Want it?”

She shakes her head.

She doesn’t know what he is trying to accomplish; perhaps something that can be regarded with an, ‘it’s the thought that counts’. 

**.oOo.**

By lunch, her cheek is throbbing incessantly. Azula tries to ignore it as she scopes out a table She isn’t sure if the invitation still stands. She decides that they will just kick her out if she isn’t welcomed. 

“You didn’t miss too much in astronomy.” Katara informs. 

“The class or the club?” Azula asks, silently thankful that the discussion hasn’t been opened with a remark about her face. 

“Both, actually.” Katara replies. “Pathik asked me to tell you that he missed seeing you.” 

Azula absently picks through her lunch, “that makes one person.” 

“I missed having you there too.”

“You did?” Azula furrows her brows. 

“Yue is much more unbearable when I have no one to complain about her with.” Katara flinches. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re friends with her.” 

“Don’t worry, I do too.” She grumbles. 

“I think that TyLee is worried about you.” 

“She wasn’t so worried before…” her speech collapses into a sharp but soft cry. Her vision blurs some. She props her arms up on the table and presses the heels of her hands into her forehead. The throbs are branching out and causing a beating in her skull. 

She feels an arm drape over her shoulder. 

“She needs to go home.” She hears Suki comment. 

“You wanna go home?” Toph asks. 

Azula nods. She wants that very much but can barely find it in her to stand. 

The arm that drapes over her shoulder now provides support in getting Azula to her feet. She slings her own arm over Katara’s shoulder. Another body comes to her aid. At the tang of ashy cologne, she pushes it away. “I’ll take the floor before I take your help.” She spits.

“No you won’t.” Chan grumbles. 

She doesn’t have much fight left in her. The pain is maddening. 

**.oOo. **

A new doctor, a real doctor, removes the bandages that clothe her face. Her body is completely rigid. She tries not to interpret the woman’s expression one way or another, but as far as she can tell, it doesn’t look good. 

“She’s fine, yes?” Ozai asks. Despite being in the room over, she can hear him as though he were standing next to her. “This one is just taking a bit longer to recover because it was a bigger surgery.” 

“Mr. Kasai, a well done cosmetic surgery job should never swell that much.” 

Azula cringes.

“It shouldn’t hurt that much either. A persistent ten is never a good sign.” 

Azula lies back in the exam chair, hands clasped over her belly, and stares at the humming fluorescent lights. 

“We can’t say for sure without further tests, but based on the symptoms she described and sight alone, we speculate seroma and some nerve damage.”

Azula’s eyes well up at nerve damage and still the woman continues, “aesthetically, there is some asymmetry as well.”

The buzz of the lights is more apparent in the quiet to follow. 

“Mr. Kasai, you’re lucky that the surgery didn’t result in thrombosis or hematoma.” 

She thinks that he might have hit or punched something. Her head his whirring with a force to match the sound of the fluorescent bulbs. 

“We’re going to take her in to see just how severe the nerve damage is and if it can be reversed.”

“And if it can’t?” 

“Then she will have lost feeling in the right side of her face.”

She can’t imagine that, that will help with the asymmetry of her face. She clenches her hands, she always did hate asymmetry. From the sound of it, her own face is going to drive her mad. But then, had it not already done so?

“Alright, Ms. Kasai, there are a few things that we’d like to discuss with you.” The doctor enters the room. 

“You talk loud. Can we just get to the part where I find out how bad it is?”

The doctor’s face is stern. “The sooner the better, I suppose. We’ll begin testing as soon as the equipment is prepared.” She pauses. “I am going to go check on that.” With a nod, she excuses herself. 

Azula sits up, her gaze never leaves the thumbs that twiddle in her lap. 

“I was thinking of buying you a new…” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Azula.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” 

“I was just trying to make things easier for you.” Ozai states. “Job interviewers are more inclined to hire an attractive client, it’s easier to make friends…”

“I had more friends when I was ugly.” She spits, turning her head. She recoils when her cheek brushes against the exam chair. 

Even her father winces, though she can’t tell if it is at her pain or her words. 

“This was a mistake.” She chokes out. “It was a mistake…” She has been a fool. A fool to let him push her to get the surgeries and a bigger fool to trick herself into believing that they could help her make friends. That they could fix what is truly broken within her.


	16. A Crowd

Azula is lethargic with painkillers, the drone of the overhead lights and constant blipping of the heart monitor are sources of agitation. Had her mind not been dulled by the medication she might still be quivering at the assessment she had been given some hours prior. 

Koh had severed several nerves, apparently, her speech abilities are nothing short of a freakish miracle--or so they say. She refuses to call it a miracle, more so, stubbornness. It has been significantly harder to pronounce things with clarity, having the full use of only one side of her face. The nightmare is mostly of the cosmetic nature, but that does little to console her. 

She holds a packet and reads it over for the sixth time since getting it. A nerve graft. She has heard the term graft as it is used in the cosmetic surgery sense. Skin and bone can be borrowed from somewhere healthy, somewhere that can afford to spare some tissue, and placed in the desired area. Apparently the same can be done with nerves. 

Six months, and that is the best case scenario, is the predicted time frame for her to begin seeing the results of the surgery. But it can take up to a year. 

And in the case of the donor nerve it can take several years to regain feeling. 

The packet details that they will borrow a nerve from a place that has less value. They mentioned two places to borrow from, the leg and the arm. After mentioning the track team the medical team declared that they will likely they will extract the nerve from her upper and inner left arm. It will scar over and leave portions of her elbow and forearm numb. 

But at least speaking won’t be a tedious process. At least she’ll be able to move her face. At least, after another several years, sensation can return to her arm.

Her eyes tear up. She had anticipated the possibility of a appearance-related disaster, but this…

No one had told her that she could lose feeling in her face. She imagines that Dr. Guhira would have discussed the risk factors. 

Azula’s breath hitches. The tears she had been holding back come forward.

Ozai doesn’t scold her for it this time. He sits across the room, heavy in his silence and stern of face. 

He doesn’t demand that she does her school work, but she refuses to fall behind and she needs something to take her mind away from things that are out of her hands. Hospital visits will be semi-regular for the first few months so she ought to get used to doing classwork while confined to a hospital bed. Her father is already working to pay some of her professors extra to tutor her via video chat. 

From the sound of it, physical therapy appointments will be every Monday and Wednesday, after hospital clearance, leaving her room for only astronomy. 

Azula fidgets her fingers for several minutes before mustering up the energy to start on Kyoshi’s newest reading assignment. The woman and many of her other teachers have offered adjusted, easier assignments to cater to her predicament. 

Pride had her refusing the offers, which apparently still stand. 

“Mrs. Kyoshi is willing to teach you through video chats, if you need help on any of the lessons. I also found you a personal tutor who will teach you right here in your hospital room.” Ozai informs. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“I have the best doctors lined up for you, they’ve been operating on cases like yours for decades.” 

He wouldn’t have had to pay for the most prestigious doctors if he had done the same with his plastic surgeons. She almost asks him if she’s supposed to be proud of his generosity. She holds her tongue in equal parts because she doesn’t want him to pull said funds and because she doesn’t want to speak with him at all. 

“They’re success rate is nearly eighty percent. Almost all of their patients make a full or almost full recovery.” Ozai elaborates. 

“Yeah…” 

**.oOo. **

The morning of her surgery, a semi-cloudy Saturday, she has a small cluster of guests. Technically only two or three people are supposed to be in the room at once, but the Kasai family name has some influence. For it, her mother lingers at the side of her bed and Zuko at the foot. Ozai remains across the room with Mai and Chan. She has dubbed this row of chairs as the row of shame. They can sit their for as long as they want but that doesn’t mean she will address them at all. 

TyLee had taken the fourth seat in that row. But TyLee has this way of softening Azula. The girl pulls out a panda plushie and stuffs it under Azula’s arm with a bright smile, but not before holding it up to her face. A face painted with a puppy dog pout as she mutters an apology. 

Azula sighs and accepts the gift with a muttered, “don’t be, I yelled at you.” 

Perhaps if her situation wasn’t so dreary, she’d feel elated to have TyLee hugging her and grinning at her again. She steals a look at Chan and Mai, maybe she is being hard on them. But then again they haven’t been particularly friendly either. 

Mai stands, “I’m wasting my time aren’t I?” She slips her hands into her pockets. “I can be helping my mom watch Tom-Tom…”

“You’re not wasting your time.” Azula mumbles. For her low effort, the statement is unclear. So she repeats herself. 

“You haven’t said one word to me or Chan since we got here.” 

“It’s hard to talk.” That much is true enough. She hasn’t really spoken to Zuzu or her mother either. In fact, she is fairly certain that TyLee is the first person she has vocally responded to all day.

Mai sighs, “right. But you can at least acknowledge us.”

“Acknowledged.” 

She feels Ursa’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand. Somehow the dragon pendant around her neck seems more apparent. 

“You’re still angry aren’t you?” Chan asks. 

“At you?” Azula asks. “Pissed.” Yet she doesn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. She can’t say that she wants him to. 

“Azula!” Ursa 

Katara shows up a little later, Sokka tagging along. Azula half expects Ozai to make a fuss about the elections. To try one of his trademark intimidation tactics but he remains quiet on the other end of the room, opting to glare crossly instead. 

“Sorry to hear about all of this.” Katara sets a small vase of flowers onto Azula’s night stand.”Moon lilies.” 

But Azula is more interested in the black pot holding them. It seems to be a hand painted piece. In neon green is a cartoony alien surrounded by bright yellow stars and a white and red rocketship. Dotted lines loop and swirl in an equally cartoony indication of movement. Towards the other side is a UFO and a cluster of comets. “Sokka helped me paint it.” 

“So that’s why I can’t tell what that is.”

“It’s an astronaut!” Sokka declares. 

“I suppose that it can pass for an astronaut that got mauled by one of those aliens.”

“Is she always this friendly?” Sokka asks.

“That’s just how she talks to people.” Chan shrugs. “You get used to it after awhile.”

Azula runs her fingers over the petals and reaches for her drink. 

“It doesn’t hurt as much, does it?” Katara asks.

Azula points to the bottle of painkillers. “I’m sure it does, I just can’t feel it.” It does help that they have since drained the seroma. With most of the swelling aside, she can see fully out of her left eye again.

She heaves herself upright and reaches for her phone. Zuko hands it to her.

“I’m glad that you’re okay.” Chan says.

“I’m not okay.” Her eyes seem to dim.

“But you will be!” TyLee gives her a light squeeze. “It’s like when we were kids and you fell out of that tree. You got right back up again.” 

“TyLee.” Her voice hitches. “I’m not getting right back up this time.” She swallows, bunching the bedsheets up in her palms.

“I can’t see you staying down for good.” Zuko shrugs. 

She stares at her lap. “This didn’t have to happen. I could have said no.” And she supposes that, that is the heart of what tears her up. “I could have just gotten the nose and chin job and quit while I was ahead…” She pauses. “I thought that it would fix things.” 

It is a wonder that Katara and Chan haven’t hit her with a classic, ‘I told you so.’

“I did this to myself.” 

“You had some good help.” Ursa fixes Ozai with with a sharp and piercing glare. The sort that could cut diamonds. Her father’s face remains impassive under it. 

“A lot of help.” Chan mumbles. 

Azula puts her head back against the pillows. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is…it’s done.” 

Ursa’s hand tightens around hers. At least she isn’t alone. She takes in the cluster of people around her. There are more people present than she thought there would be. She checks her phone to find well wishes from Suki, Toph, and Ruon. And a small, ‘get well soon’ from Aang on her social media page. 

From Yue, she finds a, ‘your face isn’t too fucked up, right?’ Azula thinks that this might be her way of displaying concern. But she isn’t sure. She searches for a message from Jet and finds none. 

She looks up from her phone to see the head doctor step into the room, “the operation room has been prepped.” The woman says. “Please wrap up your discussion so we can begin the operation.” 

Azula bites her lip, ignoring the small twinge of pain. She takes a deep breath. “Thank you for coming to visit me.” She isn’t sure who she is addressing, she supposes that it is just general gratitude. “Especially you, asshole.” Another stern look from Ursa. “I know that you’re still mad…” 

Chan rubs the back of his head. “I don’t really think that it matters anymore. It was kind of a dumb argument.” 

She wouldn’t say that it was. Within it there had been some valid points of discussion, but she doesn’t have time to get into that. “We can talk about it some other time.” 

He nods. 

Ursa pulls Azula into another hug, brushing a hand over her hair. 

“Good luck, Azula.” Mai speaks. 

“Yeah, we’ll see.” 

One by one, the room grows vacant until only her father remains. And then he is shooed away. She takes a deep breath. She supposes that it will be hard to make her situation much worse. At least this time, she has some real doctors. 


	17. Eviction

“I leave you alone with them and this is what you do to them!” Ursa’s voice is shriller than usual. “You couldn’t just leave them be? I almost didn’t recognize him without that scar. Making him get rid of that wasn’t enough for you?” Her voice carries loudly from two floors below.

“I was thinking of his future. I couldn’t send him off to high school with that kind of scarring.” Ozai insists. “They’d rip his self-esteem to shreds. He’s already a softie…”

“Zuko wasn’t enough for you.” Ursa repeats. “You had to do this to our beautiful girl too. She didn’t even have any scars.”

“She had a baby face.” 

“She’s fifteen!” Azula doesn’t need to see her mother to know that the woman was throwing her hands up. “Of course she has a child’s face, she  _ is _ a child.”

“You had a womanly face when we started dating.” Ozai argues. 

“We’re not the same person! She’s a late bloomer, you can’t rush these things.”

At this Azula’s face flushes. Zuko slumps down against the wall next to her. “Just like old times, right?” He comments. 

“They used to argue about jobs.” Azula shrugs. “Not about us.” She pauses, it is still a bit of a hassle to enunciate things clearly. She can’t wait for some feeling to return to the right side of her face. “Not about how to raise us, anyways.” Custody matters had been a common topic back then. Ultimately they were left with their father as his income is more stable. Ursa had taken a leap of faith in leaving them behind for her career. She said it was her best chance. Ozai refused to make the move with her because his career is where they are now. 

She supposes that she still holds a little resentment at how Ursa had chosen her career over them. But she can’t say that her ambition wouldn’t carry her to make the same choice. It doesn’t matter anyhow, she doesn’t have the energy to cling to rivalries. Not when she could use her mother’s special brand of care. 

“I guess so.” Zuko replies. 

“I have a sturdy job now.” Ursa declares. “More than sturdy, I have nearly as much wealth as you do. If you think that I  _ can’t  _ get custody of my children after this, you’re mistaken.” 

“You will not take  _ my  _ children. I raised them, I did the hard work.” 

“You raised them and you broke them.” 

“They’re fine. I taught them to be resilient.” 

Azula finds herself lucky that he did. Part of her is inclined to say that she would have given up at the diagnosis if he hadn’t at least taught her to push through things. Not that she is anywhere near ready to embrace her situation. She has hardly accepted it yet. 

The surgery is through with, to her surprise, and with a splinted arm, they had cleared her the very same day that they’d done the procedure. The splint is terribly uncomfortable and she has been fated to wear it for at least three weeks. 

She tenderly cradles the splinted arm and listens for the conclusion of the argument below. 

“They are staying with me, Ursa.”

“We shall see.” 

Zuko seems to smile at this. “We might get to live with mom.” 

Azula isn’t so sure that she shares his delight. She is wholly torn. “Maybe.” she mumbles in way of a response. 

**.oOo.**

It seems like it has been ages since she has been in the halls of Agni High. “You can go to class, Zuzu. I can take care of myself.” She rolls her eyes and shoves a few textbooks into her shoulder bag. She picks it up off the floor with her good arm and hoists it on lets it rest on her uninjured shoulder. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want help with those?” 

“I can handle a few textbooks.” She closes her locker and gives him a shooing gesture. 

“I just want to help.” 

“And I don’t want people to treat me like I’m helpless just because my arm is in a sling.” 

Zuko seems to hesitate. “Just don’t hurt yourself worse.

She rolls her eyes, and yet, she deep down she has to admit to herself that she appreciates the sentiment. She thinks that this might be the closest they have been since they were children. She can’t exactly place when they had grown apart, but she is sure that father had created the rift with his ridiculous expectations. She watches her brother make his way down the hall before slipping into her own classroom. 

TyLee greets her with a warm smile. She slips into her desk and arranges her supplies upon it. 

“Need a copy of the notes?”

Azula shakes her head. “Zuko’s been getting them for me.” She pulls out the worksheet she had finished the night before. She hands it to Kyoshi who replaces that one with a new assignment and a welcome back.

It is so ordinary.

The day is so mundane it is almost as though nothing has changed at all.

Almost.

TyLee and Mai walk with her as she makes her way to the gym. People murmur to themselves. She might be able to pretend like she isn’t the subject of the murmurs were they not looking at her just a little too long.

Pitying stares that make her both furious and uncomfortable, perhaps furiously uncomfortable.

“Do you want to stop by my house after school?” Azula offers, a small attempt to invest herself in a conversation that didn’t leave her feeling awkward. She almost wants to ask if the state of her face is as bad as their expressions suggest.

“I can stop by if you don’t mind Tom-Tom tagging along.”

“Does five o clock sound good? I’ll have some time after gymnastics.”

“Five sounds perfect and I’m sure mother would love to meet Tom-Tom.” Azula replies.

“You think that she’ll take him off my hands for a bit?”

“Probably.” Azula says. They reach the gymnasium door. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She enters the gym and scopes Kyoshi out. She refuses to sit on the sidelines again. “What are we doing today?”

“You’re sitting out and working on your lit assignment.” Kyoshi shrugs. “The rest of us will be playing soccer after a few warm up laps

"I can still use my legs, Kyoshi. And one arm.” Azula insists. “I can play soccer.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Kyoshi agrees to let her speed walk the track so long as she promises to either walk or stop entirely if she doesn’t feel well. She supposes that she shouldn’t push her luck and makes her way to the track. 

She hears someone sprinting up behind her. Before she can turn around, Yue is standing in front of her, leaning in way too close for comfort. “I heard that your face is all messed up.” 

“Keep talking and yours won’t be any better.” She replies dryly. 

Yue takes a step back. “It isn’t as bad as Jet made it sound.” 

“Jet hasn’t even seen my face yet.” 

Yue taps her chin. “It’s still pretty awful.” She shrugs. At Azula’s scowl she adds a hasty, “no offense.” 

Her frown only deepens as she stalks away from the other girl. It isn’t like she hadn’t been expecting Yue to make things more difficult. No, she had very much anticipated the girl making her feel worse about herself then she did already. 

She hears footsteps again. “Go, away.” 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. I thought that you were Yue.” 

“She’s over there.” Katara pointed. “Pouting about something.” 

Azula rolls her eyes. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better, I suppose. I guess that I’m just going to have to get used to everyone looking at me like  _ that _ .” She takes a deep breath. As things stand, she doesn’t feel as though such a feat is possible. They make her feel like some sort of creature. She casts her eyes to the floor. 

“They’ll get used to it and stop staring.” 

“There are more people than the ones in this school…” She doesn’t like thinking of being in a crowd, walking amid people who haven’t and won’t ever get the chance to get used to it… “this is going to be peoples’ first impression of me.”

“And you’ll know who’s worth talking to right away.” Katara replies. “If they’re rude then they aren’t worth talking to anyways.” 

“I don’t even have a thrilling story to tell. At least Zuzu got to tell everyone that he got his scar saving the neighbor’s kid from a kitchen fire.” Azula slows her speedwalk to a halt. “I get to tell everyone that my plastic surgeon fucked up.” 

“You don’t have to tell the truth.”

“Yes, Toph said the same. She suggested that I tell everyone that I was fighting an evil government agent who threw acid in my face. She also mentioned something about being attacked by a mutant.”

“You should hear her ‘how I went blind’ story.” Katara laughed. 

“I’m sure that that’s entertaining.” Azula glances around the track. “Where’s the nimrod.” 

“He got sent home for a dress code violation. I told him that he needed to stop sagging his pants. They already gave him several warnings.” 

“They let him be the class president…” Azula grumbles. Regardless, she decides that it is doing her well to have more mundane conversations again. 

**.oOo.**

Azula stares at her applesauce with annoyance. She still can’t eat solids and she is growing sick of oatmeal, apple sauce, and yogurt. She isn’t even sure that a healthy person can live on such a diet. She casts a longing look at Toph’s egg rolls and dumplings and an even more longing look at TyLee’s arrangement of cupcakes. Those are soft and fluffy, perhaps her doctor will approve of adding them to her meal plan.

Katara sits across from her and offers her a carton of orange juice. “I don’t really like oranges.” 

“Neither do I.” 

“Okay, one of you is going to have to move!” Yue stands before Mai and TyLee. “I am not sitting next to the clownfish.” 

“Clownfish?” Mai questions.

“She’s been calling me that since...nevermind.” 

“Since Katty accidentally swam diagonally while doing the backstroke and made our team look like a big joke.” Yue shrugged. 

“And I call her, the eel because she’s a snake.” 

Yue folds her arms and wedges herself between Azula and TyLee with a ‘hmph.’ “I don’t like our new table mates.” 

“You’ll get over it.” Toph shrugs. 

“This table is too crowded.” Yue eyes Suki. 

“Well it’s about to get more crowded.” Chan declares. 

“Move over a little Katara, make some space for Chan’s ego.” Azula remarks. 

“Happy Monday to you too, Azula.” Chan greets. 

It is nice to get back to the playful jesting. Though she still believes that they are due for a talk. The sooner the better, but she doesn’t want an audience. For the time being they will have to deal with the remaining threads of tension. That subtle spark of awkwardness that settles when he sits down. 

Jet follows in suit. 

“Good morning, Jet.” TyLee greets.

“It’s the afternoon.” He fixes his gaze on Azula. Judgement rolls off of him in waves.

“You look a lot worse than I thought you would.” He picks up a french fry and, before popping it into his mouth, says, “you weren’t pleasant to look at before. But this is awful.”

“She was kinda pretty before.” Yue interjects.

“She was really pretty, Yue.” Chan adds. Was, was, was. It only makes her feel that much worse for having lost whatever beauty she might have once had.

“Well she sure as hell isn’t now.” Jet replies. “And if she was such a looker before, why didn’t you take her to homecoming?”

Another relentless blow to her ego.

She braces herself for the next, it didn’t come in the way she had prepared for.

“Because she was changing things about her that I liked the way they were and it was frustrating to watch.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that before I got the first surgery?” She asks. “You know that I first thought of getting them because of you, right?”

This time it is Chan who looked as though he’d taken a physical hit. “Wh-when.”

“Can we talk about this later?” She sends a cutting state towards Jet. “Alone.”

Chan nods but she can tell by the way he pushes absently at his mashed potatoes that the rest of lunch will be heavy.

“You know what?” Azula asks prompting the whole of her posse to look up. “I think that I have a solution to our overcrowded table.”

Chan cringes.

Without a word, she picks up Jet’s lunch tray and moves it to the corner table. She gestures to it. “Go on, Jet.”

Yue holds a hand up to her mouth, “ooo, Jet, you’re in trouble.” She snickers, “even I haven’t gotten evicted from the table!”

Jet scowled. “That’s fine with me, I didn’t want to look at that anyways.” He motions to Azula. “It’s disgusting.”

Azula lets out a breath, a tickling sensation flutters up in her tummy.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Azula.” Katara mutters. But she thinks that he does. She can’t say that she disagrees with him, she has gone out of her way to cover and avoid mirrors.

She feels TyLee wrap her arms around her and snuggle her cheek against Azula’s.

Azula signed and gives him one final glance. She sees him making his way to Smellerbee’s table. He may be tables away but the damage has been done. Chan has his head propped up by his arm and dismally stares at his still untouched meal. And Azula herself feels numb.


	18. Broken Plastic

Breakfast is strangely quiet and Azula can’t place why until Ozai clears his throat. “I called Dr. Guhira. He said that he can do some revision surgery.”

Azula laughs, a few tears threatening to spill over. “Are you serious?” She pauses. “You want me to get more surgery?”

He clears his throat again. “I thought that you might…”

“No. No more. My face is already damaged enough.” Her voice hitches.

Ozai opens his mouth but Ursa’s voice fills the quiet. “What’s going on here?”

Her farther cringes.

“He’s being insensitive again, isn’t he?”

He casts her a pleading stare but she can only work to swallow down her tears.

Her expression only seems to kindle her mother’s temper further. “You and Zuko won’t have to worry about that soon.” She slaps a stack of court documents onto the table.

Something about it makes Azula’s stomach lurch.

“Azula, I’m trying to…I’m trying to fix this.”

“Then stop telling me to get surgery.”

“It’s different than…”

“I have to get to class.” She mutters as she picks up her bag and heads for the door. She doesn’t know what she looks less forward to, a run in with Jet during gym class or the tense conversation that she is about to have with Chan.

She makes her way to his locker and loiters there, running thorough her script until she sees him sauntering up. He runs his finger though his hairline. “You want to start or should I?”

Azula shrugs.

“How did I make you feel like you needed the surgery?”

“It wasn’t just you. It was actually mostly my father.” Azula admits before recounting the comment that inspired her to get work done. He rubs his face in the way that he always does when he is particularly stressed.

“I guess that, that was pretty shallow, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“I should have told you…” he trails off, “that you didn’t need the surgeries.”

She folds her arms and replies with a soft, “yeah.” It is all she can manage for the time. What’s done is done. She considers briefly, her father’s offer. But, no, she won’t let him goad her into another operation. Not for cosmetic’s sake anyhow.

“Homecoming probably didn’t help either.”

“No.” She agreed. Not that it was of any more use that she didn’t mention what had been bothering her so much.

“So, what now?”

Azula shrugs. “Nothing, I guess. I just wanted to let you know why homecoming ended the way it did.”

Chan nods. “Kind of glad that you did.” He scratches the back of his head. “Are things going to be less awkward now?”

“I hope so or this conversation was pointless.”

He lets out a loud curse when the bell rings.

“Don’t worry about it.” Azula dismisses. “I’ll just tell Kyoshi that I was having trouble carrying all of this.” She opens her locker and pulls out more textbooks than necessary. She hands them to Chan and picks up her bag. “"And that you were giving me a hand.”

“Ah, so you’ve discovered the wonders of being ‘helpless.’” Tops grins. “It comes in handy sometimes.”

“Is that why you’re wandering the halls?” Azula asks.

Her grin widens. “ Hell yes!”

.oOo.

Kyoshi lets her join them for frisbee. “How intense can throwing around a flimsy disk get?” She clearly underestimated the sheer chaos three of the school jocks could stir.

The absurd amount of combined testosterone wafting off of Sokka, Chan, and Jet is enough to build a future resume for a frat house.

She is thankful for it; it keeps Jet from pestering her. She lingers with Katara and Yue at what she hopes is a safe distance from the sport related pissing contest. Though she has landed herself in the center of an age old rivalry.”

“Don’t let her get the frisbee!” Yue declares as Azula sends it sailing to Katara. Yue groans as the other girl’s hands clamp down on it. The girl looks smug. She tosses the frisbee back to Azula who passes it to Yue and then it is back in her hands again. She rolls her eye, realizing and accepting that they were never going to pass it to each other. 

“Mind if I join you guys?” Ruon asks. 

Azula passes the frisbee to him and he flicks it to the nearest person, Yue. “Sorry about your face.” He comments.

“It is what it is.” 

“Yeah. Chan was telling me a bit about it.” 

She finds herself pleasantly to have such a considerable amount of support. Frankly she had been almost certain that Yue would cut her out. Granted, the girl is tactlessly truthful but she has come to know that, that’s just the girl’s personality. She supposes that she appreciates the honesty. 

“Why aren’t you with Chan?” 

“I’ve taken eight frisbees to the face and we’ve been playing for five minutes.” Ruon shrugs. “I’m not into extreme frisbee.” 

The four pass the frisbee  between one another. Azula watches it sail into Katara’s hands and Katara passes it to Ruon.

“Hey! You skipped me.” Yue complains as Ruon tosses it to her. 

Azula outstretches her good arm to catch it. Before she can, a different frisbee collides with the back of her head. 

“Careful, Longshot.” Jet leers. “We can’t mess up the back of her head too.”

Azula picks up the frisbee and glowers at Jet. Her gaze flickers between he and Longshot before she ultimately decides to toss it at Jet. She lands her hit square on his nose. Longshot chuckles, unaware that she still has one frisbee at her disposal. This one stikes his ear. She offers them the dullest expression she can muster, one that might even impress Mai. 

“Jesus.” Ruon remarks with a half laugh. “I didn’t realize you had such good aim.”

Azula shrugs. “I have many talents.”

“I think that Longshot is gonna whine to Kyoshi.” Yue comments. 

“Let him.” Azula replies. “Kyoshi likes me.” Even if she does get a lecture, the satisfaction of striking the both of them will outweigh it. Getting the last hit takes the edge off of the sting they left her with. 

But still, some tingles of doubt remain.

They carry her to math class and into lunch.

She wishes that her mind would stop lingering on the petty comments. They seem so small in comparison to the kindness everyone else seems to afford her.

She arranges her food, and simply observes the conversations around her. 

“Are you still taking Zuko to the comet festival?” TyLee asks. 

Yue grimances. “Oh God no.” 

“Aw, why not? He’s kind of cute.” 

“Gross.” Azula mutters. 

“The first half of homecoming was nice but then he started talking about Mai and it got awkward.” She pauses. “You still going with Kei Lo.”

“He’s nice and everything but he doesn’t like that I have to bring Tom-Tom along with us on our dates sometimes.” Mai shrugs. 

“Soooo…is it too soon for me to asking him to the festival?” 

“Have at him.” 

Azula’s heart sinks again. She is still alone. She pretends to be interested in her meal, wishing that they would all just stop talking about dates and dances. She thinks of bringing up their sports teams, heaven knows that TyLee can talk about gymnastics for ages and Yue did love to boast about her award for her 500 meter freestyle. She doesn’t speak up fast enough.

“Are you going to ask anyone to the comet festival?” Yue asks. 

And again she takes too long to answer. 

“She can ask all the people she wants, nobody is going to say yes to a face like that.” Jet comments. “She couldn’t get a date before, she sure as hell can’t get one now.” 

“That’s bold coming from someone who lost his date.” Chan comments. 

“I’m taking Smellerbee.” He shrugs.

“Poor girl.” Yue comments, “I’d try to help her if I liked her, but she has one of those coconut haircuts and I don’t condone that kind of sin against hair.” 

“It least she isn’t made of plastic. Broken plastic.” 

Broken plastic…

Azula absently brings her fingers to her cheek. She hasn’t seen it yet, but she can feel the raised ridges of scar tissue. 

She hears Toph enter the conversation but the words never settle. The face Jet makes brings her some satisfaction, but it is fleeting as his words echo in her head. Moreso when she catches tunes in to hear him say, “you can’t even fucking see, of course you think that she’s pretty.” 

“Jet, my asshole looks prettier than you.” Toph grumbles. 

“How about this? How about you leave beauty related opinions to the people who they are meant for; people who can  _ see _ . Blind people don’t get to call things beautiful.” 

Toph folds her arms over her chest and blows at her bangs. “Whatever I’d rather be blind then look at whatever you have going on.” 

She should say something. Anything at all instead of hiding behind the rest of them. But she had thrown away most of her fight with the frisbees and the rest of it has been sapped away by Jet’s commentary.

She thinks of Ozai’s offer. Dr. Guhira has always been good to her, at the very least he made her feel comfortable and like she had a choice. She can imagine that he’d be able to perform a healthy corrective surgery. 

“Good luck with the festival.” Jet’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “I bet that even that  faggot  Aang get  more dick than you.” He offers her a final sneer before going to receive his high fives and words of praise. 

Katara starts to stand and Suki holds her down. “He can’t talk about people like that, Suki.” Her grip tightens around her empty water bottle. “Did you hear what he called Aang? Aang isn’t even here!” 

A mist of outrage settles over the table. And through the fog, they don’t see her get up and leave. She leans herself against the wall just outside of the cafeteria. She could give her father a call…

The double doors open and Katara emerges. 

“You can get written up for ditching, you know?”

“I guess I’ll take my first write up then.” She replies. “Is this the first time…?” She looks at Azula before clarifying, “that people have talked to you like this?”

Azula nods. “I have to admit, I admire their sheer audacity.” 

Katara laughs. “I always thought that you’d have some crazy comebacks.” 

“Disappointed?” 

Frankly she thought that she would too. She seems to have them at the ready on TyLee’s behalf and on Mai’s...and Zuzu’s if he’s lucky and she’s feeling generous. But when it comes to herself she seems to lose her bite. 

“Not really.” Katara says. “I’m sure I’ll hear them soon enough.” 

“Maybe.” 

Katara pulls her into a gentle hug. Usually that is reserved for only TyLee to do, but today she accepts the comforting gesture.

. **oOo** . 

She is, once again, the first person to spread her picnic blanket on the ground. This time she is bundled up in a coat and several layers of sweaters that are just thin enough to accommodate her sling. 

“Hot chocolate?” Pathik offers. 

Azula holds her hand out. Stargazing and hot chocolate, she supposes that she can really use that today. She takes a sip and looks at the sky until bickering from below draws her attention away. 

Katara gives a little wave. 

“I can’t believe that you nerds talked me into coming here again.” 

“You say that every week, Yue. I think that you enjoy astronomy.” Azula speculates. 

“I enjoy the idea of free hot chocolate.” She wraps her arms around herself. “It’s too cold out for this.” She gestures to the telescopes. 

“Yes, but it’s the only time that you can see Canis Major.” Katara points out.

“And Venus is best seen this month.” Azula adds. 

“Who cares about Venus. I still haven’t gotten to see the moon.” She shiverers and burrows further into her coat. “Look at this.” She waves her arms around at the snow. “Too cold.”

“Maybe if you’d zip your coat, you wouldn’t be as cold.” Katara suggests. 

Azula hears a clatter and a muffled, “oh dear.” Katara wanders over and helps their professor pick up his telescope. When the remaining few students make themselves comfortable Pathik addresses them. “Today, I would like to start by telling a story to get us in the winter spirit…”

She never imagined that astronomy club with come with fairy tale read alouds. But then, Pathik has never been anything but whimsical. She isn’t opposed to his story choice either. 

“Hey, can I share your blanket?” Katara asks. 

Azula nods and tosses the blanket over her shoulder. 

“What about me?” Yue asks. 

“First come, first served.” Azula shrugs. 

She and Katara were the last remaining people after the telescopes have been packed away. Katara looks at her phone and bites her lip, “I forgot that Sokka had an away game tonight.”

“I’m sure that my limo has some extra space.” Azula replies. 

Her face slackens in relief. “For a second I thought that I’d be walking home. I mean, it isn’t that far but my nose is getting numb.” 

“Yes, mine too. Just like old times.”

Katara laughs, “I never thought that I’d have to help someone change nose pads.” 

“I suppose that I didn’t think I’d ever have to ask someone to help me with that.” The conversation fades out. In its place is the soft sound of sleet hitting the parking lot.

“He’s wrong you know.”

“Hmm?” Azula knits her brows.    
  
“About you not going to get a date to the comet festival.” 

“Can we avoid this topic?”

“I guess we can, if you really don’t want to go with me.” 

Azula stares at her for the longest time. “You...you want to take me?”

Katara’s hand squeezes hers and she nods. “I’d really like to give it a try. Jet was a horrible date…”

“So the bar is pretty low.” 

“So I need something extra special to make up for it. I figured that you like a challenge.” 

Azula smiles. “I do like a challenge, yes.” 

“So you’ll go with me?”

Azula nods. “I’ll go.” 

Katara leans forward, when Azula misses her cue, the girl rolls her eyes and pecks her nose instead. Katara brushes Azula’s bangs aside and leans in for a second try. Azula hesitates before tilting her head. The girl’s lips are meer inches from her own when two rapid horn bleats cause them both to jolt. 

“That doesn’t look like a limo.” Katara mumbles, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“We’re having a family dinner.” Zuko calls from the car window. 

“We’ll have to drop Katara off first.” 

“She can come with us.” Ursa smiles. “There’s an open seat in the back.” 

“Thank you Ms. Kasai.” Katara climbs into the back. 

“You won’t be thanking us after dinner.” Azula whispers. “Family dinners are always…”

“Dramatic or weird.” Zuko fills in. 

“Are you going to tell me about your girlfriend?” Ozai asks, tapping the steering wheel. 

“Yup.” Zuko muses. “It’s gonna be weird this time.”


	19. Pursuit

Azula is almost certain that dinner had only been relatively normal because Katara had been around to make it so. Her father has the sense to not put their personal struggles out for everyone to hear and Ursa is too polite to discuss custody rights with a guest around. But Katara isn’t there for breakfast, isn’t around to deter Ursa from saying, “after school we’re all going to have a talk.” 

She won’t be around after school to keep it from happening. 

Zuko looks ridiculously thrilled at the prospect of living with their mother. Azula feels faintly disoriented as she readies herself for the school day. She smooths the wrinkles out of her uniform and gives her shoulder bag a second look through. When nothing is missing, she hoists it onto her shoulder and heads from the door. 

She has one foot off of the porch step when she hears her name. She turns to the door. 

“Do you want to go with your mother?” 

Azula swallows. 

He seems to take a deep breath and holds has fingers to his temples. “I’ll let you go with her.” He looks terribly exhausted.

“I don’t know, father.” Azula mumbles. She does know that she doesn’t look forward to dinner. She considers tagging along with TyLee for her gymnastics practice, but she remembers that the girl is leaving school early for a ‘dentist’ appointment. Azula just hopes that she has the sense to not post pictures of the musical that her family is going to attend. 

Mostly her day is uneventful and drags. Not that she is opposed to its prolongness. She takes her seat at the lunch table. No sooner than she finds her chair does Yue burst out, “you don’t have to do this!” 

Azula blinks at the girl. 

“I’ll go out with you if you’re that desperate for a date!”

“What’s she talking about?” Chan asks. 

“Her poor taste in women.” 

“You have a date?” Mai asks. 

“Yes.” Azula replies as the girl in question takes her seat.

“Who? Oh you should have told me! I’m so excited for you!” TyLee squeals.

Azula takes Katara’s hand. 

“You two are going to be so cute!” She gushes. 

“I made something for you.” Azula remembers. “I still can’t have any but I thought that you’d like it.” She pulls out a tin of homemade gingerbread cookies. “Mother and I used to make them when I was a kid.”

“Zuko didn’t?” Katara asks.

“He’s allergic to ginger.” Mai says.

“Thanks, Azula.” Katara picks out a cookie. “I would have made something for you…” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

**.oOo.**

  
The limo ride home isn’t long enough. For her to prepare for the dinner discussion that she is about to have. Ozai and Ursa are already at the table when she and Zuko enter. She and Zuko exchange a glance. Reluctantly, Azula pulls out her chair. 

She doesn’t need to read the sheets in the middle of the table to know that they are custody forms. 

“Your father and I have been discussing many things…”

“I want to stay here.” Azula cuts in. Zuko furrows his brows. His look of puzzlement is mirrored on their father’s face. “My friends are here and my future is here.” 

“Your future?” Ursa questions.

Azula digs through her bag and pulls out her Lake Laogai Lake University application and NIR&Ex pamphlets. “This city has the best astronomy program in the country.”

“Azula, your father is…” She trails off. “He doesn’t know how to take care of the two of you.” 

“I’m not dead yet.” Azula shrugs. 

“You could have died. Those surgeries were dangerous.”

“Clearly.” She brushes her fingers over her ruined cheek. 

“I need to make sure that you’re safe.” Ursa replies. “That doesn’t reassure me that you and Zuko will be.” 

“Then stay here.” Azula frowns. “Move back in with us. You shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

“I had to move for my…” 

“Career. I know. So you should understand why I need to stay here.” 

“I am an adult. I was an adult when I made my career choice. You’re too young…” 

“If I’m old enough to sign a cosmetic surgery consent form, I can start making plans for my career. I’m staying with father. If you’re really that worried about me, then you can come live with us.”

“Azula!”

“You only opened this up for discussion because you thought that I’d go with you, didn’t you?”

“Azula, I want you to come with me because I’m worried about what else he’ll do to you if you stay. I know that the court system will agree with me.” She pauses. “You can say who you really want to stay with, I won’t let him…”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Azula mutters. But that isn’t true, is it? He has intimidated her on a good many occasions and yet she still feels closer to him than her mother. 

Ozai graces Ursa with a sly smile. 

“I don’t know how you keep getting into her head…”

“He hasn’t.” Azula frowns. “He would have had to talk to me for that to happen.”

“Neglect…” Ursa begins. 

“I haven’t let him talk to me.” She clarifies. 

“Then why do you want to stay with him? You’re angry with him.” 

“The same reason I’m still talking to you even though you left me behind.” She crosses her arms. “I’m staying with father and...and father is going to make some changes for me.” It is a bold declaration. Perhaps more brazen than anything she has ever said to the man. 

His face flickers with rage and for a moment she thinks that he will rise up and prove to Ursa exactly why she needs custody. Instead he takes a deep breath and wanders out of the room. 


	20. The Power Of Choice

Ozai doesn’t enter the room again and the dinner table is uncomfortably quiet until Zuko clears his throat and launches into a story about how he tried to ask Mai out again and ended up spilling the milkshake he’d bought her into her lap. Ordinarily Azula would have at least chuckled, but she is preoccupied with the line she has just crossed with her father. 

She finishes her meal and pushes her chair in.

“Azula…”

She doesn’t feel like talking to her mother. She isn’t in the mood for conversation with anyone. Instead, she makes her way up to her room so that she can finish the last of that night’s assignments and prepare herself for her upcoming doctor appointment. 

Tomorrow she will have her first physical therapy session and they will tell her their predictions as to how far her recover will extend. She looks at her arm, at the very least they will begin her facial physical therapy. Resentfully, she notes that she still has at least another week of working around that sling.

She sighs, pushes her classwork to the side, and lays back with her good arm behind her head. For some time she simply breathes in and out as she watches the ceiling fan spin. Her cheek seems to tingle, just faintly enough for it to be a mild irritant. She supposes that it is a comfort, however annoying it is, she thinks that it is a good sign. At least she is feeling something on that side of her face. 

Her thoughts wander to a more pleasant place, but one that is daunting no less. The Sozin’s Comet viewing festival is next weekend. With any luck she will be out of the sling by then and with more luck she will have managed to keep Katara around long enough for her to be able to attend it. 

Azula can’t keep the prickles of doubt from her mind. Apparently she hadn’t been an entirely pleasant person to talk to; she had driven Chan, Mai, and Tylee away with ease. She rolls onto her side and draws her legs up. She tries to remind herself that Katara had been there, however reluctantly, in the middle of that mess. 

She draws in a long breath and releases it. One of these days she will have to break this habit of overthinking things. 

**.oOo.**

Azula stares at slightly peeling wallpaper. It is floral pattern of gold and green, gaudy if she must say. She supposes that it is better than that unsettling and dismal grey-white that she has grown accustomed to. Ming-Kwo is a private doctor and her living room doubles as her office. It does make things cozier. The flames blazing in the fireplace are rather soothing, for a moment she forgets that she is at a physical therapy appointment and check up.

Katara’s hand moves atop hers. Ozai leans against the wall closest to the fireplace. 

“Good evening, Ms. Kasai.” Ming greets. 

“I suppose. It could be better.” She mutters. 

“I’m going to check on your arm.” 

“It’s still attached, even if I can’t feel parts of it. There isn’t much to see.” 

“Can you flex your fingers for me?” She requests as she inspects Azula’s sling. 

Azula does as instructed. 

“How much movement can you feel?” 

Azula flexes her fingers once more. “Everything but my pinky and index finger.” 

Ming-Kwo nods. “But you can move them just fine?”

“Most of the time.” 

She nods again. “We’ll work on making sure that you’ll be able to keep using them.” She readjusts Azula’s sling. “We should be able to remove the sling next time you come here and then we’ll begin the physical therapy for your arm. For now we’ll work on movement with your face.” 

“Sure.” Azula replies dully. 

“Your speech seems to be improving. It is clearer than when we’d first spoken.”

“That is my goal.” 

Ming-Kwo smiles. “Does it take effort and difficulty to enunciate properly or is it coming naturally.”

Azula thinks for a moment. She can’t say that she has to force her mouth to shape things as she’d like, but it takes more of a conscious effort to do so. “Not as naturally as before. But it isn’t hard.”

“That’s a good sign, Ms. Kasai.” Ming responds. “We’ll work on making your speech come naturally again. With luck we might be able to get your speech where it used to be.”

“Luck as nothing to do with it and there is no might. My speech  _ will  _ be as it had been.”

“Yes, I think that it will be. There’s power in that kind of determination.”

**.oOo.**

Katara sits at the foot of her bed. Azula is still running it over in her mind, the possibility that her speech might have a hint of a slur. That small seed of doubt that she needs to kill before it can flourish. 

“I’m glad that you didn’t just give up.” Katara says. “You and Toph are...amazing. I don’t know if I would be able to fight as much as you two. I don’t think that I’d be able to live my life the same way.” 

“You would. Fight, anyways.” Azula mutters. “Maybe it looks like we’re living just like we used to, but we’re not.” 

“I mean that you two can still do all of the things that you used to do. You’re not letting this stuff stop you. I don’t think that I could do that.” 

“I suppose.” Azula replies. “I think that you could. People are freakishly good at adapting. It’s probably the only thing we have going for us as a species. Your brother has proven time and time again that commonsense isn’t in human nature.” 

Katara laughs. “No wonder you and Toph get along so well.” She pauses. “Did she ever tell you how she went blind?”

“Several times, different story each time.” Azula glances at her phone. “She told me the true version. At least I think that it was true. She said that she was bullied as a child. That this kid who called himself the boulder held her down and his friends forced her to look at the sun until she couldn’t see it anymore.” 

Katara confirms the story with a nod. “Yeah, that’s why she acts all tough. She won’t let anyone do that to her again…” she trails off. 

“What happened to that kid anyways?” 

“I think that he was put in juvie.” 

“How depressing.” Azula stuffs her hand into her pocket and looks at the ceiling. 

There is a knock on her door. Her father waits a few seconds before entering. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” 

“Talk.” 

He stares at Katara, “alone.” 

Azula opens her mouth. 

“It’s fine, Azula. I was actually supposed to be home an hour ago. Sokka said that my dad is on his way. I can wait with Zuko.” 

Azula crinkles her nose. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

Katara gives her a quick peck on her still crinkled nose and makes her way to the door. Ozai’s face is rather photoworthy. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to know what exactly are the changes you want made.” He leans in the doorway. 

“I want you to let me make my own decisions.” Azula leans back against the bedposts. “Stop telling me what is best for me. Stop making me feel like I’m not good enough.” 

“I didn’t…”

“You did.” She cuts in. “Whether you wanted to or not, you did.” 

Ozai sighs and rubs his palms down his face. He looks thoroughly exhausted. “Do you really want to stay with me?” 

Azula swallows and looks at her palms. “Yes. I do.” 

“Do you want to stay here because you want to stay with me or because you want to go to Lake Laogai?” 

She presses her mouth into a thin--albeit crooked--line as she ponders the question. “Both, I guess.”

There is a flicker of relief on his face. “I won’t be able to go with you to your next appointment…”

To the extent that it can, Azula’s face scrunches. 

“I.” He pauses. “I have a therapy appointment.”

“For what?”

“You and Zuko both know that I have a temper.” He takes a long moment of quiet. “I know that the both of you might think otherwise, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I expect respect. But I want you to be able to…” 

“Draw a line.” She finishes. 

“Yes. Something like that.” He puts a hand on her back. “Aside from making a corrective surgery appointment for you, I can’t take back what happened. But I will do my best to make sure that it doesn’t happen a second time.”

Azula is somewhat glad that Katara has left. She takes a deep breath and rubs some wetness from her eyes. 

“I’ll start by giving you a choice. I can make a consultation appointment with Dr. Guhira. You can see what he has to say and decide what you want to do.” 

“Fine.” Azula replies. “I’ll hear him out.” 

“I just want you to know all of your options.” He reiterated. “After you hear them, the choice is yours.” 


	21. The Options

Dr. Guhira looks just about as dismal to see her as she feels to be sitting in his chair again. He steals a look at Ozai and she can see that he is biting his tongue. “This is Dr. Koh’s handiwork, isn’t it?” 

Azula nods. 

“He’s had his medical licence revoked several times.” Dr. Guhira mutters “I’m willing to bet that he has acquired himself a counterfeit one. Which clinic does he work under now?” 

Azula now looks at her father. 

“The Kuikkuchenji Cosmetic Clinic.” Ozai answers for her.

“I see.” He says as he tilts Azula’s face to the left and then to the right. “I believe that you have grounds for a lawsuit not just against him, but against the facility as a whole for not doing an adequate background check.”

“Yes.” Ozai agrees. “I have already filed for one.” 

“I have worked with Koh on several occasions, he is as horrible at following instructions as he is at performing a successful surgery.” He withdraws his touch. “I wouldn’t mind appearing as a witness to your case. It might help to let them know that she’s had successful surgeries in the past and that the problem doesn’t lie in her age and inability to manage aftercare.” 

“You’ll do that?” Azula asks. 

“Of course I will.” He replies. “Even if you don’t wish to get a reversal surgery, I’d still like to be able to help you.” 

“Thank you.” Azula says, some of the rigidness leaves her body. 

“Speaking of the surgery. I would like you to know that the operation will be completely medical procedure rather than a cosmetic one.You could, of course, have a surgery that comes with a cosmetic aspect. If you do that, I can cover the scars. If you want something strictly medical, the only thing that I will do is bring symmetry back to your face.”

“Strictly medical.” Azula repeats. “Are you a doctor. Like a  _ real  _ doctor.”

Dr. Guhira chuckles. She makes a face, he has been nothing but kind but she still isn’t in the mood for laughs nor jokes. “Sorry.” He says of her expression. “I would argue that cosmetic surgeons are real doctors. Simply a different sort. But, yes, I am licenced to perform emergency medical surgeries.”

“Then why are you here?”

“It isn’t as dreary, most of the time. I’m not fond of seeing people in life-threatening situations. In the cosmetic field I can put my skills to use and not have to see all of that distress.”

“I suppose that I ruined that for you.” Azula comments. 

“You’re a little different.” He picks up his clipboard. “You don’t have that look of fear and hopelessness in your eyes. You look terribly angry but you aren’t holding my hand and begging me not to let you die.” He sets the clipboard down again, looking almost distant. “That’s what I don’t like seeing.” 

“Oh.” She stares at her palm. “Yes, I suppose that’s different.”

His expression seems to brighten again. “So let me discuss something else with you. Your father mentioned that you miss your old face. If you would like, I can perform the corrective surgery in a way that will look closer to your natural face.” 

“You can do that?”

“I like to think that I’m very skilled at what I do. I have your records, it shouldn’t be too difficult. I won’t be able to exactly reproduce your natural look, but I can come close.” He pauses. “Now, it may be several years before I can begin even the reversal surgery. I want the nerves to be fully healed for at least three months before I do any sort of operation.” 

Azula nods “That sounds...optimal.” 

“I can book you an appointment, if you’d like. And if you decide that you don’t want the surgery, you can always cancel.” 

“Yes, that would work for me.” Azula decides. “I’ll let you know what I decide as soon as I figure it out for myself.” 

“Wonderful. Whatever you decide, I’ll be in contact with your father about the lawsuit.”

“Thank you Dr. Guhira.” She replies. 

He leans in a hair closer, “it is good to hear you speak for yourself instead of letting your father do the talking.” 

“Yes.” She agrees. It is nice. She peers at Ozai, she gets a sense that he is itching to speak but he holds his tongue. This time it is her call. Everything is her call. 

For the first time in a long while, she feels like he life is in her control. 


	22. The Chaos In Asymmetry

Azula’s festival dress is form fitting and reaches just above her knees with a hem lined with a shimmery fringe of electric blue. Well aware that much of the festival and viewing party will take place outside, she finds herself the custom leggings that match the complexion of her skin. She slips them on and goes to fetch her necklace. She isn’t sure that she needs a necklace at all. The collar of her dress is eye-catching enough with its line of glimmering rubies. The entirety of the dress is adorned with many zigzagging fingers of that same electric blue. It starkly contrasts the bright red silk of the dress and glitters in the light. 

She wears her hair up and spices it up with blue and red glitter. It is slightly curled. Her mother has worked the better part of the evening to style it for her before wandering off to check on Zuko--who, with the help of their father, should be in his tux. 

She hasn’t yet seen her entire ensemble, but assumes that it suits her better than her homecoming dress did and she is glad that she hadn’t wasted wearing it then.

Azula closes stands before the mirror for a very long time with her eyes closed. The skin beneath her fingers is still so rough and somewhat lumpy. It alleviates her nervous anticipation none. 

She lets a few more moments pass her by before she opens her eyes. She both wishes she hadn’t and wishes that she had done it sooner. She wishes mostly, that she would have looked at herself earlier, that she would have given herself time to get used to the damage dealt. Most of the scar tissue is gathered on her cheek left cheek; a long and thin raised line where the blade had once dragged. In some places there are still lumps. Small lumps, but bumps sizable enough to be noticed with ease. Strangely contrasting the lumps, that cheek is sunken. Far too thin. Thin enough to make her look almost malnourished. 

Though the scar tissue is less on the right side of her face, she thinks that, that side looks profoundly more horrific. It is just as thin, perhaps moreso, and makes her wish that she still had her babyfat. At least then she had looked healthy. She considers for the first time, and all too late, that the puffiness that she had hated so much was perfectly natural.

Movement on that side is still terribly limited, rendering that half of her face slack. It is that slackness that seems to create the lack of symmetry. 

Azula’s stomach lurches, she never did like asymmetry, it always made her headache. It instilled within her this unbearable desire to recreate the symmetry and her head would throb until she did. But, God, she can’t create symmetry on her face. 

She wraps her arms around herself, leans against the wall, and slides to the floor. She had expected to dislike her new face, but she hadn’t expected it to make her feel physically sick. She lets out a small, gasping sob. 

She should have waited until after the festival to ruin her night. 

She feels queasy and anxious and suddenly it seems like a trick or a joke that Katara wants to spend any time with her, much less take her on a first date to a festival. 

“Azula!” She hears her mother shout. She tries to pacify herself. “Katara is here.” 

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and stands up, her stance is unsteady and somewhat weak as she makes her way towards the door. By the time she reaches the staircase, Katara is already halfway up it. She greets Azula with a bright smile, those big blue eyes seeming to sparkle under the chandelier’s light. Her dress is more practical with long sleeves and a long train, made of navy blue velvet. It is simpler than Azula’s own having only a few faux diamonds at the neckline and a trim of fake white fur on the sleeves and at the hem. Still, the dress is lovely and it fits her better than any excess glitz could ever. 

She wears her hair down in deep brown waves. Thin strands of her bangs are held back with two small, pearl hair combs. A few more pearls are weaved into her hair, Azula can’t tell if they are genuine. 

“Hi Azula. You look nice tonight.” 

Azula doesn’t believe that, not for a second. But she believes that Katara does and she says as much. 

“Are you ready to go?” Katara asks.

“I need to put some makeup on.” 

She must sound terribly glum. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Azula insists. 

“Let me help you with your makeup?   
  


Azula nods. “I hope that you’re amazingly skilled with makeup because…” 

“I promise, it won’t take that much makeup to make you look beautiful.” She takes a limp Azula into a hug. Her head hangs over Katara’s shoulder as the girl rubs her back. 

“You can say what you really think.” Azula informs softly. “I already know…”

“I am saying what I really think.” Katara holds her ground. “That dress looks nice on you.” 

“It would look nicer on someone who has a flattering face to go with it.” She folds her arms over her chest. 

Katara’s expression darkens and that enthusiastic glimmer in her eyes is gone. “I thought that you were done with that…” 

“Yes. But then I actually saw what it looked like.”

Katara’s eyes go momentarily wide. “You mean that tonight is the first time you’ve seen your face since the surgery?”

Azula gives a slow and forlorn nod. 

“Oh, Azula.” She almost sounds like her mother. “What are we going to do with you?” She adds a small and sad laugh. 

“Fix my face?” Azula mumbles. “It’s gross.” 

Katara takes her by the shoulders and moves her so that she can look into her eyes. “I don’t want to change you, Azula. I don’t have any trouble looking at your face. Sokka doesn’t either. Chan and Tylee… and Mai. I think that you’re the only person who thinks that it looks gross.” Before Azula can open her mouth Katara adds, “Jet’s opinion doesn’t count and Yue’s we can consider but…”

“It’s questionable.” Azula finishes she forces a laugh. “I’m skeptical of anything Yue says.” She stands and beckons for Katara to follow her to her bedroom.

“I promise, you look fine. Your face doesn’t bother anyone that matters.”

“It bothers me.” 

“I think that you just have to get used to it.” Katara guesses. She picks up two lipsticks. “Which one do you want?”

Azula points at the bright red, Katara is already applying it when it occurs to her that such a bold choice in color will draw unwanted attention to her face. She hopes that the lipstick will be bright enough to keep their focus on her lips rather than her ravaged cheeks.

“You don’t understand.” She says after Katara swaps out the lipstick for some eyeliner. Katara quirks a brow and Azula takes that as her cue to continue. “Look at my room.” She gives her girlfriend a chance to take it in. It’s immaculate cleanliness and the tedious and orderly fashion in which all of her belongings are arranged from the alignment of her shelves, dressers, and bed to the collection of trophies on her dresser and crystals on her nightstand. Even the stuffed pandas on her bed and the fairy lights wrapped around the bed posts are perfectly straight. There is an impeccable balance about the room. “It’s all symmetrical or at least balanced. Everything is where it is supposed to be.”

“I can tell.” Katara replies. “You’d hate Sokka’s room.” She dabs some eyeshadow gently atop Azula’s lids. 

“I don’t like when things are lopsided or out of place. It hurts my head. It’s like this itch that won’t go away until I straighten whatever it is up. I can’t do that with my face. It’s literally going to drive me insane.” 

Katara puts the makeup brushes aside and takes Azula’s hands. “You’re going to be fine.” She looks around the room. “How about this, you can wear one of those masquerade half-masks to the festival. You family has crazy cash, I’m sure that your dad could buy you a bunch of those masks until you’re comfortable looking at your face again.” She seems to grow more excited with each word. “It could be your thing! I don’t know anyone else who spices up their school uniform with a mask. I’m sure Pathik would make an exception to the dress code for you. He likes you.” 

“I guess that, that could work.” Azula replies. She picks up the mask that came with her dress and slips it over her face.”

“But since it was my idea I want you to do something for me.” 

Azula rolls her eyes. “What?”

“Just promise me that you’ll look at your face,  _ without the mask _ , at least once a day. Even if it’s just when you brush your teeth or comb your hair in the morning.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“You have to get used to seeing yourself like this. I don’t want you to have to cover your face forever.” She pauses. “I want you to appreciate yourself for who you are. For that to happen, you’re going to have to…” 

“Accept it first.” Azula finishes. She inhales deeply and removes the mask once more. “I’m still going to steal your mask idea though.” 

“You really like attention, don’t you?”

“I like to...make myself known.” She clarifies. “I feel like people will remember the person who comes to school wearing a different mask every other day.” 

“Every other day?” 

“Yes.” Azula says. “I’ll tolerate looking at the asymmetry for a day and then I’ll give myself a break from that. Is that a problem.” 

“No!” Katara says quickly. “That’s...that’s actually more than I thought you’d be willing to do.”

“You thought that I was going to be dramatic about this didn’t you?” 

“You were definitely dramatic. ‘It’s literally going to drive me insane’.” Zuko mocks from in the doorway. Azula chucks her mask at him. “Jesus.” He rubs his arm, that goofy grin never leaves his face. 

“I thought that you’d want to take baby steps, is all.” Katara answers. 

Azula crinkles her nose. “If I’m going to do something, I’m going to put a real effort in.” She turns back to Zuko. “Where’s Mai?”

“Fussing with Tom-Tom again. You two are probably going to have to meet me there.”

“You’re our ride, dumb dumb.” Azula collects her mask and finds her favorite perfume; a rose fragrance in a dragon shaped bottle. “Do you want a spray.” 

Katara holds up a different perfume with a seashell bottle, “I’d like to try this one.”

“Go on.” 

While she is there, she might as well start now; she takes another breath and spares the mirror a look as she gives the perfume bottle a few pumps. 

**.oOo.**

“It’s beautiful!” TyLee gasps. “It’s been such a long time since I really looked at the stars.”

“Your gymnastics season is almost over, yes?” Azula asks. 

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“You can follow Katara and I to the astronomy club.” 

“Oh yeah! I could do that!” She replies. 

“Do you guys want to try candle making?” Zuko cuts in, he jabs his thumb in the direction of an activity stall. 

Mai shrugs, “I’ll tag along.” 

“I like scented candles.” TyLee tugs Chan towards the stall. 

Azula exchanges a look with Katara, “do you want to make one together.” 

“I’d like that.” She smiles. 

Azula finds that she likes working with the wax, it warms her hands as she shapes the candle. Katara had insisted that they use blue wax and let Azula pick the shape. Ultimately she decides to make a simple pillar candle. She fades different shades of blue wax into each other while Katara etches in stars of silver glitter. It smells of blueberry and ocean spray. Both Yue and TyLee have created candles of pink; TyLee’s is a bubblegum scented pastel and Yue’s a bright pink, peach smelling abomination. It grows worse still when Kei Lo adds a touch of red apple. 

Expectedly, Mai insists on a black candle that smells of licorice and cherry.

“Where’s your brother anyways?” Azula asks. 

“He and Suki wanted to do a little holiday shopping before coming here, that’s why I told them to drop me off at your place.” 

“And Aang?” 

“I think that he and Teo are trying to convince Toph to come. She says that she gets tired of pointing at random spots in the sky and claiming to see aliens.” 

“She knows that there are other things to do here, right?” 

Katara shrugs and then takes a step back to look at their candle. “I think that we’re done.” 

Azula moves it to the drying rack to be picked up at the candle lighting hour. Katara takes Azula’s hand, “why aren’t you wearing gloves?” She asks.

“They don’t match my dress.”

“Your hands are freezing!” She exclaims. “Take my gloves or let’s go get a cup of hot chocolate. Geeze, my mom would kill me if I came out here without gloves!”

“I’m not cold.” Azula denies. 

“You are too.” Katara huffs. “You’re shivering.” 

Azula gives a soft and stubborn pout. “I’m fine.” She insists, her words accented by teeny puffs of fog that do little to help her case. The smoky wisps trail in brief bursts towards the sky. She watches them drift, fading away before they can even reach the strings of soft gold lights that connect one food stall to the next. The strings of light bob in the same snowy gust that shakes the paper lanterns. She supposes that the atmosphere is very pleasing. Beneath her feet, the ground is a mess of star shaped confetti and silver glitter, not that the glitter is necessary with the natural sparkle of the snow accumulating on the ground.

Every twelve feet or so is a small fire where people gather and warm their hands. Katara is pulling her in the direction of one of them. She rustles around in her oversized backpack and pulls out a blanket. “Here, take this.” She wraps it around Azula and steals a look at the nearest food stall. Azula slips her a handful of cash. She gives Azula a brief hug and makes her way to the stall. 

Azula sits there listening to the crackle and pop of the flames. She supposes that she is happy to be wrapped in the blanket. Her hands were beginning to grow red. Katara returns with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. “S’mors?” She offers, gesturing to the sticks. 

“Yes, that sounds nice.” 

As Azula sips her drink, Katara twirls two marshmallows over the flames. 

**.oOo. **

Azula is rather quiet and Katara has trouble gauging her mood. She is fairly certain that the girl is content. At the very least, her teeth aren’t chattering anymore. Katara doesn’t think that she has ever seen someone get so cold so fast. 

She watches the girl tinker with her telescope and then with her own. If only having one free hand is slowing her down, she sure doesn’t show it. Azula looks up from her work and Katara can finally gauge her emotions. She does look rather elated, more so than Katara has seen her look in a while. 

They are only minutes away from Sozin’s comet passing. Katara looks down from the top of the hill; from top to bottom it is alit with hundreds of flickering candles. A sea of twinkling flames and thin wisps of smoke. 

“We’re all set.” Azula notes. 

Katara can’t imagine how thrilled the girl must be to finally see the spectacle that gave her family such an esteemed name. 

“Sozin’s comet will be the first to fall and then the rest of them should appear.” Azula remarks with more enthusiasm than Katara has ever heard in her voice. Every now and again she leans into the telescope. Katara decides that it is best to make her way over to her own. 

It happens quickly; a flash of brilliant orange in the sky as the comet flares into view. It is humbling to view such an old object. One that very well could have been around since the dawn of man. From such a distance it looks so small. Even still it is beautiful to behold with its fiery tail and the trail of dust and debris it leaves behind. Katara follows it with her telescope until it dips below the horizon and out of view. 

It was such a fleeting moment, but then, the most glorious moments usually are. A second or two of splendor, a minute at most and then all is ordinary once more. She supposes that the universe knows that beauty is best appreciated when it is a rarity to be seen. Even so, the moment isn’t entirely over. 

Just as Azula noted, the sky becomes crowded with many falling stars. A rain of them that leave silver-blue lines in their wake like contrails of an aeroplane.

“Wow this is…” 

“Magnificent.” Azula finishes.

Katara thinks that there is no better word. 

She feels arms wrap around her torso and a blanket falling over her shoulders. Azula isn’t quite tall enough to rest her had in the crook of Katara’s neck so she presses her mostly healed left cheek against her back. 

Content to finally see Azula initiating physical contact for once, Katara doesn’t move. Not until it occurs to her that her girlfriend is slightly trembling again. 

“Let me warm you up?” She offers. 

Azula takes a step back. Katara takes her blanket and wraps it around herself. She then takes Azula into a hug and wraps the blanket around the both of them. Azula peers up at her, snow clings to her lashes. Katara never realized how small the girl was until then. She gives Azula a cheerful smile.

The comets still burst overhead, she can see them reflected in Azula’s eyes as the girl stares up at them. She doesn’t want to interrupt her viewing, but at the same time, she craves their first real kiss. So she cups Azula’s less delicate cheek and leans in. 

Azula doesn’t flinch or draw back as Katara had anticipated. The girl closes her eyes and lets Katara guide her through what she assumes is the girl’s first real kiss. Katara can’t tell if Azula’s face is rosey with the cold or because she has never been kissed before. 

No matter, she seems to be at peace. 

She sniffles.

“Let’s look at the comets for a few more minutes and then get inside before you get yourself sick.” Katara suggests.

“I’m fine.” Azula insists, but she doesn’t protest when Katara begins to pack away their equipment and she doesn’t put up a fight when Katara begins tugging her towards the banquet hall. 

Katara herself is relieved to be out of the cold, she was beginning to shiver herself. She watches Azula wander over to the chocolate fountain where she greets TyLee who has a rather absurd amount of chocolate covered fruit already gathered. Chan says something and the three of them laugh. She wishes that she could have heard it but she is thrilled to see Azula in such good spirits, especially after seeing her look so dismal and beat down. 

“She seems happy.” Mai notes. 

Katara nods. 

“What did you do to her?” Zuko flashes an amused grin. 

“I gave her some hot chocolate and a blanket...and then a kiss.” 

“Hey, thanks for doing this for her.” Zuko says. “She really needed a good night like this. Even if she doesn’t tell you, it means a lot to her.” 

“I know.” Katara smiles. “I can tell.”


	23. The Balance In Asymmetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final part. I'm torn on whether or not it seems abrupt. But at the same time, I feel like any more chapters would be needlessly drawing the fic out. So feel free to give me some feedback there.
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this fic, I had a lot of fun with it. :)

  
  
  


Katara doesn’t see much of Azula for the next few weeks. With her lawsuit in full swing, she only gets to see the girl in class and only gets to have real conversations with her during lunch, that is if she is in school at all. A good handful of her court dates seem to take place during school hours. When she does have a day off, she spends it catching up on home and classwork. Katara feels awful for her, she doesn’t seem to have any breaks. Not that it seems to bother her, she has mentioned once or twice that it helps keep her mind off of things to be bogged down with assignments. 

And, for what it’s worth, the trials are going flawlessly. Between her own testimonies and those of her former surgone’s, Katara doubts that Kho has a chance. 

  
  


Azula sits down next to her and hands her a brownie. It smells heavenly and looks just as amazing. She has topped it with a strawberry and a zigzag of chocolate syrup. Katara gives it a taste, finding that the flavor is absolutely rich. “I didn’t realize that you were so good at cooking.” 

“I have many talents.” Azula shrugs. “Hidden or otherwise.” She smiles, and this time the smile reaches the right side of her face too. It doesn’t seem to span as wide, but it is reassuring all the same. She can only imagine how thrilling that it must be for Azula. 

She takes Azula’s hand, “is everything still going well with the trials.” 

“Very.” Azula confirms. “We’ll be wrapping them up by the end of the week. And once I win I plan on celebrating with a trip to the mall. I promised that I’d buy TyLee a certain dress. She doesn’t know it yet…”

“Why are you suing him if you can already pay for the damages yourself?” Chan asks upon sitting down.

“Spite.” Mai answers for her. “A good old fashion vendetta. I admire that.”

Yue drops into her chair next. She looks Azula over, “I think that your face looks less fucked up today.” She comments. 

Katara has never seen her girlfriend look less amused. 

“Like, that was a compliment.” Yue says.

“You have a way with words.” Azula grumbles. 

“I’m like one of those old guys that writes poetry. What are they called?”

Katara catches Toph giving her a thumbs up across the table, she can’t imagine why. 

Azula inhales deeply and casts an almost pleading look at Katara. 

“Poets.” Katara replies. “They’re called poets.” 

Yue bursts out laughing. “Oh you guys should see the looks on your faces!” 

“Does that mean that you know what a poet is?” Suki asks.

Yue nods, “Toph said that it would be funny to pretend like I didn’t.” 

“And you thought that it would be a good idea to lead into that by insulting Azula’s face?” Chan asks. 

Azula gives a dismissive wave. “She hurt herself too.” 

“I did not.”

“Yue, you just found out that we all think you really are that airheaded.” Katara pointed out. 

“Oh.” She says softly. “Oh…” 

“Wo-ow” Chan rolls his eyes.

Katara chuckles to herself. She wonders what she would have had to say about this a year prior. She can’t imagine that a younger her would have ever anticipated sitting at a table with this clique--with Yue--muchless, having a pleasant conversation with her. She couldn’t have predicted it any more than she would have guessed than Azula would be giving her little handmade gifts. Azula, who she had kind of just assumed was just like every other arrogant rich girl in the school. Katara supposes that maybe she had been, at least to a degree…

**.oOo.**

Katara wears a look, a distant one that Azula has trouble interpreting. “What are you thinking about?” She asks. 

“Just that it’s kind of weird to be sitting here.”

Azula tilts her head but TyLee is the one who poses the question, “what do you mean, you fit in just fine.”

“No, no, I mean…” She pauses, what does she mean? “I just didn’t think that you guys would think that I’m...cool.”

Another burst of laughter from Yue, followed by an, “oh, no, don’t get any of us wrong, you’re still a major dork.” She pauses. “Like that key chain you always carry around with you and that dumb dolphin notebook...dork stuff. All of it. And only nerds like science and outer space.”

Azula opens her mouth. 

“Oh, you were under the impression that we  _ didn’t  _ think you were also a dork this whole time.” She gives it a moment to sink in. “Yeah, even before the surgeries...total…” she jabs her finger against Azula’s forehead. “Geek.”

“I hate you.” Azula grumbles. 

“Tell her, Chan!” Yue exclaims. 

He rubs the back of his head, “yeah, you’re pretty much a dork.” He seems to consider for a moment. “But with style and personality.” 

Azula looks at TyLee who remains quiet. “You think so to don’t you?” 

TyLee nuzzles her cheek against Azula’s. “Yeah, just a little.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks stiffly. 

“Because you’re kind of scary.” Mai shrugs. Even she laughs, “geez, you look so victimized right now.” 

“I’m just trying to eat my lunch and you’re telling me that I’ve been a nerd this whole time.” Azula replies. 

“Correct.” Yue nods. 

“But you’re a cool nerd.” Toph punches her bicep. 

“This whole time…” Azula whispers to herself. This whole time and yet they had treated her like she belonged. Like she was the leader of their posse. She looks to Katara. 

“They’re  _ your  _ friends.” Katara shrugs. “And they’re all like you.”

“This is what we’ve been trying to tell you.” Chan says. “We didn’t keep you around because you had looks and money. We talk to you because you’re you. I don’t think that I’ve met anyone quite like you before.” 

Suddenly the jesting gives way to something less entertaining. “Is that a good thing?” 

“You get all of these straight A’s but, Jesus, you’re clueless about people.” Mai replies. 

“It’s a good thing.” TyLee smiles. 

Azula’s smile is significantly more sheepish when it comes back, “I suppose that that’s good to know.” 

“Sounds like things are getting deep and gushy over here.” Jet remarks. “Christ, I leave for a few weeks and all of you hop aboard the dweeb train. And you’re trying to make it sound cute and quirky.” 

“Fuck off, Jet.” Chan grumbles. 

“I guess, with a face like that you have to settle for mediocre.” Jet eyes Katara.

“I’m not dating you.” Azula tries to raise a brow, momentarily forgetting that she can no longer do so. Instead she quirks the left one. 

“Yeah, but I bought you a gift anyways.” He drops a doll onto the table and turns it over. The plastic is gashed and beaten; clearly the boy had taken a screwdriver and possibly a hammer to its face. “Just thought I’d give you a doll that looks like you, we’re all about inclusivity here, right lads?” He asks of his new gang. 

Azula takes the mutilated doll, almost feeling sorry for it. 

“So what’s worse?” He asks Smellerbee, “plastic or broken plastic.” 

“It’s all fake, Jet. At least when it’s not broken, it looks good.” Smellerbee shrugs. 

Chan rises, but Azula holds him in place. “I can speak for myself, Chan.”

“Then do it?” Yue says.

“I could.” Azula replies. “I could remind Jet that he used to shove crayons up his own nose when he got mad. I could remind him that I remember every secret he shared when we were kids.” 

He goes tense. 

“And the ones he told me last year.” She turns to Smellerbee. “Has he shown you this picture yet?” She scrolls through her phone and finds the image she’d taken when they had gone to the beach that summer. “My dad had to drive into town and buy him new trunks because he couldn’t seem to find his.” 

Azula thinks that the color in his face is in equal parts anger and humiliation. She digs through her shoulder bag and pulls out a red crayon. She holds it out to him, “you look pretty angry.” 

**.oOo.**

Toph is still laughing as they wander down the hallway, her face red with it. Occasionally she slaps a locker in delight. Not that Katara isn’t feeling exactly the same. To know that Jet is probably feeling exactly as sick as he made her feel during homecoming. 

She wonders how he had forgotten that he had told Azula so many embarrassing things about himself…

She can’t help but feel somewhat sad. Dreary at the realization that he and Azula had been that close at one point. That they had been friends since they were children young enough to do ridiculous things like shove crayons into their noses in protest. 

“It kind of sucks, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Toph asks.

“That he used to be just another silly kid and now look at him.” 

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, Katara!” Toph declares. “We just had a great victory.” 

“Yeah...I guess.”

“And you’re going to have another one in a few hours!” 

It takes her a moment to realize that Toph is referring to the astronomy club. She spends the next several hours crossing her fingers and shooting silent prayers. She is jittery and antsy when she arrives in the classroom after hours. Azula slips into the chair next to her. “Nervous?”

Katara nods. 

“Don’t be.” 

Katara swallows. But how can she not be. This is her entire future. Her best opportunity to help bring her family out of a tight spot. 

Pathik, awkward as ever stumbles before the whiteboard. He haphazardly lays down an arm full of papers and certificates. “So glad that you can all be here for our last meeting before winter break. This year, has been the most impressive yet. There are more faces here today than I’ve ever seen in this club. It’s wonderful to see so many people enthusiastic about the mysteries of our galaxy.” He pauses. “There have been so many grand achievements this year. We have people who didn’t know a lick about astronomy suddenly passing my class with perfect test scores.” He holds up a slip of paper and a hand held telescope with a painted silver moon. “Improvement like that is just as important as those who had straight A’s from the start.” He makes his way to Yue’s desk and sets the certificate and telescope in front of her. “After I announce the honorable mentions and winners of our NIR-Ex trip and scholarship, we’ll celebrate you achievement by going moon gazing!” 

Yue’s face lights up. 

He leans towards Yue and says quieter, “you and I both know that you have a brilliant mind, you ought to show it to people.” 

He makes his way back to the front of the classroom. “It truly was hard to choose the winner of the scholarship and NIR-Ex trip. I have two pupils who are just as worthy. That is why I pushed for a double prize. NIR-Ex labs has been kind enough to allow two people to attend. Unfortunately, there will be only one recipient of the Lake Laogai scholarship.” 

Katara feels her face grow clammy. “Azula and Katara, I am pleased to tell you that your next date will be at NIR-Ex.” 

Katara rolls her eyes at the smoochy faces Yue and Sneers make as she and Azula walk to the front of the classroom.

“The two of you have been stellar pupils!” Pathik declares. “Absolute stars!” 

Katara can’t even count the number of eye rolls that has earned him. 

“I truly do wish that I could pick both of you.” He pauses. “Congratulations Azula...”

Katara’s stomach reels. She wants to be happy for her girlfriend...she truly does. But she feels sick to her stomach. Nauseous as she smiles at Azula and pulls her into a congratulatory hug. Nauseous as she breaks the news to her mother and father.

She tells them not to be spiteful towards Azula when she brings her over next.

**.oOo. **

“Can I talk to you about something?” Azula asks. There is a tension in the air and it makes her uncomfortable. She hasn’t seen Katara since winter break began and it is beginning to eat away at her. “There’s a gazebo in the park if you want to meet there.” She doesn’t tell Katara that she is already sitting there. She just hopes that the other girl will show up. 

Her hands tremble and it is not entirely the fault of the frosty gusts that rattle the gazebo. Azula fidgets with the garland that lines the gazebo railing a shimmer of silver and gold. 

“Hey.” Katara greets. Her eyes look puffy and forlorn. 

Azula adjusts her hat and returns the greeting. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

She pats the spot on the bench next to her and Katara sits. “A few things.” 

“I’m not mad at you.” Katara says quickly. “You worked really hard for that scholarship.” 

“Yes.” Azula replies. “But I can pay the tuition in full…” She trails off. “I can’t give you the scholarship, but I can give you this.” She slides Katara an envelope. 

“Azula…” She trails off. “I can’t take this.” 

“Then pretend like Kho is paying for it...technically he is.” She shrugs. 

“But this is your compensation.” 

Azula shrugs. “Father takes care of me well enough.” 

Azula has never seen such a wide smile on any one person’s face. That hopeful and excited glimmer in Katara’s eyes as she pulls her into what is probably the tightest hug that she has ever received is a gift. “I was going to wait until Christmas but I didn’t want you to mope around for our entire break. It would have been bothersome.” 

“I love you too, Azula.” Katara chuckles. She wipes at her eye. “What else did you have to tell me?” 

Azula takes a deep breath. “I’m going to get it fixed.” 

Katara cocks her head. 

She gestures to her face. “I talked to my old surgone, he does medical surgeries too. It won’t happen for at least a year, but I’m going to have some reversal surgery.” 

“Azula.” Katara’s brows scrunch. “I thought that you were going to try to…”    
  


“I am trying to accept myself.” Azula replies. “That’s why I’m having him bring my face back, my  _ old  _ face. Before the first surgeries.” She pauses. “It’s not a cosmetic thing this time. It’s…” she thinks for a moment, “it’s like having your face fixed after a bad car accident. He says that correcting some of the damaged facial structures will give me more movement again.” 

Katara nods, seeming to accept the explanation, but she isn’t quite done. “He says that the surgery won’t remove the scars and some of the lumps might still be there. That I can get a cosmetic procedure done to have those fixed…”

“Are you going to?” 

Azula shakes her head. “Just the one that will help me get more movement in my face. I don’t mind the scars.” 

“Or the lumps?” 

“Those bother me.” She confesses. “But I suppose that I’ll get over it. If Zuzu can get over whatever is going on with his face, I can do the same.” 

“Really?” Katara laughs. “You’re bringing him into this one.”

“I’ll insult him at every opportunity, it’s what the two of us do.” She pauses. “And I have to make the most of it because he’s moving in with mother this summer. He says that his dream college is closer to her home.” 

“Why does he want to go to school so far away?” 

“Uncle teaches there.” She replies. “Culinary arts.” 

Katara nods. 

“Anyways, I’m staying because there has to be at least one ‘wild hormonal teenage nightmare’ to drive father mad...and make sure he keeps going to his therapy appointments.” She pauses. “Oh and there also might be someone else worth sticking around for.” 

"He's not angry with you for not getting the surgery?"

"I think that he might be a little disappointed, but that's not his call and he knows it." Azula pauses. "Mother is proud though."

Katara smiles, "so you fixed things with her then?"

"It's a work in progress." 

Katara nods. After a few moments of silence she speaks again, “I’m glad that you’re sticking around. I don’t know if I can tolerate Yue without you.” 

“Of course not.” Azula tucks her bangs behind her ears. 

“I guess things are going to be different next year…” Katara gazes up at the ceiling of the gazebo.

“Things are going to be different after winter break.” She shrugs. “Hopefully this time they’ll be a good different. “ Katara leans into her and Azula strokes the top of her head. 

“You’re wearing gloves this time.” Katara notes. “I think that they will be...a good different, I mean.” 


End file.
